Lonely Souls
by jokay927
Summary: Two Lonely Souls realise that they complete the other. My only Kribbs fic :P. Another Co-Write with the most Wonderfully brilliant Kundry Athalia (Not finished yet, we shall hopefully get it complete soonish)
1. Chapter 1

I own nada zilch nothing! Just borrowing for them for the moment but will give them back safe and sound. Another Co-Write with the wonderful Nina

Something totally different to what I normally write...but we decided to have a go :P

It'll be written in first person mode, with myself as Gibbs and Nina as Kort

NCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCIS NCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCIS NCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCIS NCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCIS NCISNCIS

+GIBBS+

I sit there watching the man I love flirting with once more with one of the ladies from HR and sigh as the stirrings of jealousy and longing once more stirs within my gut. I try to ignore how much I wish he'd speak to me like that and how it'll feel to have his strong hands running over my body, making me beg and fidget beneath him as he takes the control and tames the 'Great White' of 'Leroy Jethro Gibbs'. A snort escapes my throat at the thought and shake my head before barking "DiNozzo!"

He starts and gives me a smile before dismissing the woman "Yeah Boss?" I just stare at him with a blank look, inwardly smirking at the way he looks apologetic "Sorry Boss...Won't happen again Boss"

I shake my head "As if DiNozzo" and my gut flutters at the smile I get in return, but hide the smirk that crosses my face as I turn back to the computer.

I look up around an hour later and stretch out my back, grunting at the soft pop before standing "Alright people...that's enough for today, be here Monday 0600" with that I grab my badge and gun before leaving the building and head home.

I pace the floor as I have too much energy and chuckle as I realise how much coffee I've had but have been stuck on Cold Cases all frigging day. After nodding to myself, I run upstairs to change out of my dirty jeans and hoodie combo into a clean pair and a white button up before heading downstairs to grab my jacket and jog up to my truck. I sit there and take a deep breath as I start the vehicle and pull out of my drive as I head to the place no-one would ever think I go too.

As the Club comes to view, a soft smile crosses my face as I park a few feet away and I gaze at 'The Pink Rabbit'. No-one would ever believe that I wasn't as straight as many other Marines, granted I haven't had many male Lovers throughout the years and no long term ones since Langer. A pain shoots through my chest at the thought of his name and I shake myself out of my grief as I get out and lock up before entering the Club.

The music is deafening and I ignore the urge to cover my ears as I gaze around the Club to see if anyone picks up my interest. I head to the Bar and order a Bourbon neat, but turn as the seat beside me gets taken and a familiar British accent states "Mines a Scotch on the rocks"

+KORT+

This is the last place where I thought I could have found one like him. Well, I haven't got too much time to worry about myself...Probably he didn't even noticed me. At any rate, as I've stated, I can't put the accent in any worries. I am here to find...(What, you, dirty piece of waste...nauseating sod? What? Another furtive cock to suck, another anonymous arse to penetrate in a senseless way? Another unknown face you shan't see again?) And it's better if I shan't see these faces again...The Agency is very permissive in many senses (As it happened when they discovered the needle and the three flasks of heroin inside one of the drawers of my desk), but...homosexuality? (As my Father would have said 'Sodomy'!?) My Father baptized me as 'the Sodomite of the Family', when he discovered me in our garden, (Or what my poor Mother used to call 'Garden', because it was no more than a patch of land covered by dirt and garbage), and my hands inside Alfred Townsend's trousers. I could have avoided that...but Alfred was so beautiful, for God's sake, with those immense ice blue eyes and his dark chocolate hair falling all over his broad but delicate shoulders! Yes, the sodomite of the Family. A Family whose household head was a hopeless drunkard, always beating on everything and everyone. I knew about his attempts to force the poor innocent Rachel...She even had blood running down her legs and my Mother (Poor victim!), covering the monster when saying that 'it was the period'...he raped his own Daughter and I clenched my fists. Well, all of this comes back inside my Scotch and reflexes with all its hideous colours in each piece of ice.

+GIBBS+

I watch the emotions flashing across the normally cocky mans face as he gazes into the Scotch I have just brought and frown at the deep flash of sadness I spot. After glancing around (I don't know why...it is a Gay Club after all!) before discreetly patting the British mans leg, pausing as the jade eye snaps up to stare into my own Iced ones and shrug "What's up Kort? This isn't the place I would have ever pictured you in..."

He gives me a sneer and goes to leave, but I grab his arm and shake my head as he re-takes his seat. He eyes me up, like a snake with a mouse in its sight "It's not the place I ever 'pictured' you in...Leroy"

I bristle at the use of my first name and give him my infamous glare as I growl "Same here...Thomas"

+KORT+

He is always so dry, I can read everything and nothing in his voice. At once. In a flash. He cuts, he establishes the wall...almost the same wall I like to build between the world and I. His eyes remind me of that distant touch. Alfred Townsend had exactly the same eyes. Only that Alfred Townsend died of overdose more than twenty years ago, at age seventeen, in the darkest, dirtiest corner of White Chapel. He brings me back, however, many memories. Like that time, when we shared a bench in the memorial park and he stated 'Some day, our names shall be placed there, too' pointing at the wall that was showing the names of hundred of anonymous heroes. I laughed mockingly: I was everything but a hero...I am everything but a selfless fighter for truth. He has more the type: in fact, he IS the just type for that. I raise my eye (I know the queers call me 'The Pirate Thomas' and I don't dislike the statement) and fix it into his blue ones.

How they glow tonight! How these eyes are shining in the dim light of this large room, asking for something, begging for something! I never thought he could be one for begging. We are very look alike in this aspect. He asked me a favour and he gave me back it. Fact. Done. Past. Now I sense he is asking for something...I'm wondering if he would be capable of to beseech and make me know what is he craving for? I wait. I always wait. It has been my specialty for years. To wait and to kill the moving target. He is a Sniper and he can understand what I mean.

+GIBBS+

I glare at him before huffing and removing my hand as I break the eye contact between us and down my drink in one. A growl escapes my chest as the liquid burns my throat and I signal to the Barman for another while I refuse to pay anymore attention to the Brit next to me as I gaze out across the Club. I feel his eye watching me and try to ignore him as I try to find someone to fuck or get fucked by. A smile crosses my face as I spot a brunette 'Twink' looking nervously around the room and decide to try my luck

+KORT+

I can see him going to capture Lewis' attention. Lewis is an acceptable mouth and I can say I have had many agreeable hours of enjoyment while ravishing his arse (Pretty tight, maybe not enough for me, but...it can pass). But he is also very insubstantial, very...predictable. If I know Gibbs, as I think I do, he shall find him boring after the first half of hour. Lewis is a dildo with the ability to speak...and nothing more.

+GIBBS+

The kid practically rubs himself against me and I back away from the touching hands "Sorry Mate, you are not what I am looking for" with that I go to leave but get stopped by surprisingly strong arms wrapping themselves around my waist

"No please! Give me a chance! I-I have seen you here only a few times...and each time I have wanted you to choose me!" He glances to the Bar and my eyes follow, to spot Trent watching my with his jade eye "Please? Just one fuck? Then you can go back to 'The Pirate Thomas'"

A frown crosses my face (Pirate?) but I shake myself out of the confusion as I glance down into the kids blue eyes "You can suck me off...but I will not fuck you"

The kid nods and grabs my hand before dragging me out of the Club and into the alleyway.

I let out a grunt as my back hits the wall and I glance down as the kid attacks my belt before dropping to his knees and nuzzling my crotch. A deep growl escapes my chest as I grab him by the hair and glare at him "Suck me off...or forget it!" I feel him shiver in arousal as he frees my hard cock and a groan escaped my lips as he swallows me whole while a hand caresses and tugs at my balls. My head hits the wall with a thud as I gaze down with eyes slitted in pleasure and a smirk crosses my face as I get a good grip on his hair before lazily thrusting my hips into the wet heat. A rustling noise distracts me for a minute until I realise that the kid is stroking himself while worshiping my cock. I start to feel the tell-tale signs of my pending orgasm and slowly pick up the pace as I begin to fuck his face, groaning as the kids throat goes slack and my rhythm falters before I tug his face against my groin as I cum down his throat with a growled shout. My knees shake but I refuse to let it show as I release the kid from my hold and step away as I wait for him to get to his feet as I tuck myself away

"H-How was I?"

A deep chuckle escapes my chest as I pat his cheek "Not bad kid, not bad" with that we go our separate ways we head back inside

+KORT+

I can't do anything but clap my hands "That was amazingly brutal...or brutally amazing...You choose the place of each word in the phrase, Leroy"

"What were you doing here?!" he asks, his face pale, while arranging his trousers and doing up his belt, as quickly as he can

"What you see: watching, while smoking a cigarette"

He walks past me, almost pushing me in his pace.

I laugh "Going inside in five seconds to continue talking...Commander Leroy" I warn in loud voice And he replies, from inside, turning his back and giving me one of his infamous trade mark smirks

"Nothing to talk about, Pirate Thomas..."

+GIBBS+

I storm off and pace the floor by my truck (I can't believe he was watching you! Sick Bastard!). I gaze down in shock as I feel my cock twitch at the thought of being watched and sigh as I lean against the door of my truck. Once my heartrate calms down, I pull back and angrily punch the metalwork (Fuck!) with that I continue to hit it over and over again until my arm hurts like a bitch.

+KORT+

This Gibbs reminds me of one certain bloke from Hampstead...He used to punch the bodywork of his car until he broke it. Well, he generally was breaking his arm instead...I can't do anything but laugh at his stubbornness. He pretends to hide what he really is before the others, due to that stupid 'Don't Ask, Don't Tell' issue...Totally nonsensical. Now I think I should approach him and give him a lesson. I'm in vein for teaching this evening...(Everything, Trent, everything that could make you forget the last iron princes on your flesh...Or maybe what you want to forget is the emptiness in Alfred Townsend's eyes that night, in the alley, when he died after to have received the overdose? Those empty eyes, Trent, those dead empty eyes fixed in the void...and that mouth, open, after to have articulated the first letters of your infamous name...)

+GIBBS+

I start as a hand grabs my arm and snarl as I turn...only to let out a startled gasp as Kort takes my lips into a possessive (And...desperate?) kiss. I bite his lip, tasting the coppery tang of his blood as I fight him for dominance. An answering growl copies my own and I end up pinned against my own truck as Kort literally ravishes me. A frown crosses my face as I note that my cock stands to attention at the feeling of being restrained and a growled groan escapes my lips as I watch him releasing our cocks before he grinds himself against me while biting my neck. My head rolls back with a thud against the door of my truck as I grind my pelvis against his, enjoying the sweet friction that sends sparks of pleasure up my spine.

+KORT+

I'm acting as what I am. A sick pervert, a depraved bastard. But I need to do this: I wanted to know (I always wanted to know) what in the bloody hell does this man have to make him superior to me...to everyone! Yes, yes, yes...everybody I have known desires this man for them! I have stalked him during these past few weeks and I must say in my favour that he has not even noticed this...too busy inside his own thought or too distracted by the one hundred covetous looks of the clientele. He seemed always to be looking for something...for someone?

I know I am not that something, nor that someone...but I have decided to play the game. Also...it feels so good, so monstrously good! I, Trent Kort, the infamous rogue that nobody likes nor wants nor loves, ravishing the hero, the perfect one, the honuorable, punctilious Leroy Jethro Gibbs, the man who never fails! It feels so good, so good, that the very thought can make me climax as never before!

+GIBBS+

At the feeling of Korts climax splattering both our stomachs, my own one quickly follows and I sink my teeth into his shoulder...hard enough to mark him as I scream out my second orgasm within the hour. Once finished, I lean against him as I attempt to get my breathing back under control and surprise myself (And by the way the body tenses, I reckon I surprised him also) as I nuzzle his neck before licking across it. He tastes...surprisingly sweet and slightly bitter, like a dark chocolate with a hint of rum and I find it...intoxicating...as I lick up to his ear and softly nuzzle him "How long have you been fantasizing about this?" I feel him attempt to pull away and I slit my eyes as I flip us, pinning him against my truck as I give him my most infamous glare "Tell me Trent...just how long have you wanted me?"

+KORT+

If I would be able to express it in words...maybe you would believe me, but then maybe you wouldn't. Perhaps since I saw you that morning, in the NCIS building...when I entered to state I had killed the French (Which was absolutely a lie, but...excuse me, I needed that lie to be able to return to the Agency in a proper position!). Call me a calculative one, but it was so anyway. Well, as I was saying...I spotted you and I desired you almost immediately. But then I thought: 'Trent, your good luck is useful only when performing your job. This man has been taken...and long ago'. I didn't understand myself, how I could think this way, knowing almost everything about your past (Your widowhood and the loss of your unique child). But I sensed you belonged to someone else. I wish I could tell you how I feel...but instead I keep my words to myself and shiver, thinking that it would be better if we open up to each other elsewhere, indoors and if possibly with a drink.

+GIBBS+

I notice the look he attempts to hide and spot the way he is fighting some kind of internal battle...as if he wants to speak to me? But is frightened of rejection?...I sigh as I nuzzle his neck but pause as I feel the shiver that runs through him and I only just notice the way the temperature has dropped. He tenses as I pull back and I smirk as I gently kiss his cheek "Fancy coming back to mine? We could sit by the fire with a bottle of Bourbon"

His eye narrows at me and I just give him my trademark half smirk as I get into my truck, after tucking myself away.

I watch him struggle with himself and frown (What has happen in your Past to make you react that way?) before smiling as Kort walks around and into the passenger side of my truck. I chuckle as he takes a seat and I place a hand on his thigh as I start my truck and head home.

+KORT+

And now I am here, inside his truck, lighting a cigarette while watching distractedly how the building diminish their size until become only houses, big houses, smaller ones...and contemplating the first raindrops of a storm (I have always loved the rain...The rain was my usual companion during the long days and nights of sometimes senseless surveillance, feeling the cold iron of my gun rubbing against my kidneys, so fatigued, so weary, with my mouth dry and my heart, or what had remained of it, even drier). Yes, the rain. The rain and this man, who is able to glimpse the mystery that lies beneath this mockingly mask: despondency, guilt and solitude...

+GIBBS+

The rain is beautiful and I watch it as it splatters against the windscreen.

A soft smile crosses my face as I spot my house and pull into my drive. The man beside me keeps quiet, a change from the man who had stolen my heart...the one man I can never have. I start as I sense movement and turn to spot a jade eye looking at me questioningly and I shrug "Wanna head inside?"

I don't give him a chance to answer as I leave my truck and walk through the pounding rain as I head inside, leaving the door ajar...letting him make his own mind up as I strip out of my wet clothes and start the fire.

+KORT+

I have no time to hesitate. Raising the lapels of my trench coat, I get out the car and follow him inside.

The house is pretty old style, but still comfortable, cosy...I always have loved these old houses with their unmistakable odour of many years of joys and sorrows. They hide stories in every corner. I'm wondering what story and how many old flames this hearth he is now fanning has inside the fire? I should be able to hear more closely to the crackling of these flames. I light another cigarette, discovering an old ashtray made with a seashell. Instinctively, I think of a lost home. Of an abandoned home. And I prepare myself to ask him what kind of pain his face is hiding behind his mask, that now looks beautifully enlightened by the bonfire.

+GIBBS+

I sit next to the fire only dressed in my boxers as I watch my 'Guest' enter and watch him as he looks around my home.

He stands there in his wet clothes and removes his trench coat, leaving it on the side as he gazes around my livingroom.

I cock my head to oneside as he lights a cigarette and my heart constricts slighty as he picks up the ashtray that Kelly and Shannon made with the shells from the last Family holiday we had together. I look away and into the fire, watching as the flames consumes the log...the wood snapping and crackling as it turns black before turning to ash. A sigh escapes my chest as I watch the oranges and reds burn...in the end, we all are ash...

+KORT+

He is thinking about Past and ashes. He must have hidden a remembrance into the ashes...I am sure he did. His face changed when I picked up the ashtray...what could this simple seashell tray mean to him? Memories? In this case, they must be sad...Or, better, joyful, tender memories that become the major pain when they are brought back in the grieving times. I dare to ask "What do you think about?"

He doesn't look at me, nor reply a word.

I already knew about his stoic, laconic manners .I had faced him before: of course, talking strictly about work. Now, it is different...We have shared...what? Madness? Pleasure? Desire?...What?

+GIBBS+

I ignore him as I continue to gaze into the fire, while ignoring the urge to cover myself up (You invited him here...for what? Sex? A chat?) a sigh escapes my chest as the thoughts and memories buzz around my head. I hold my head within my hands and try to block out the painful memories of those I have lost...of my fellow Marines...co-workers...Lovers...my Girls...Shannon and Kelly...and recently Langer.

I hide my eyes behind my hand as I feel the tell-tale feeling of traitorous tears. Suddenly I stand before heading to the kitchen, grabbing the bottle of my trusted Bourbon and head back to the couch. I glance in his direction and take a swig of the burning liquid before offering him the bottle

+KORT+

I give him my silent thanks and focus my eye on the tears that I foresee in the soft moisture that bathes his face. I perceive that he would like to open up, but he doesn't...Well, I can't blame him for this: I am too much like him in this sense. I drink without taking my eye off his face, waiting for his gaze to go away, but he holds mine and then my glance goes down onto his chest, that is moving in an almost quivering breathing. (This man is swallowing his sobbing) I think, but, for some reason, I dare not let myself feel touched through this.

+GIBBS+

I force my tears to stay hidden...but at the slight softening of the jade eye, I know I haven't fully been able. I take a deep breath and once I am offered the bottle back, I state "Strip"

He starts and I watch the way his eye gazes at me in curiosity (And...fear?).

I don't expect him to do as ordered, Kort has never been one to follow the rules (Well...neither have you, Gunny) but he surprises me by standing and stripping himself down to his boxers. My eyes skim across his flesh and I realise that we are much alike...two battled scarred men and I surprise us both by snuggling against his side, to share our body heat as I gaze back into the fire

+KORT+

His eyes travel all over my chest, crossing the long line of scars that I have between my left nipple and my navel "Five bullets, two of them nine millimeters" I explain, even if I know that it isn't necessary.

He nods and approaches me.

I get entangled in his arms, feeling his titanic strength in all its intensity. What does this man want now? To strangle me? He practically throws himself over my mouth and captures my lips with his own: I understand now...he is giving me back the favour, as he did with the Siravo Case. But this time I shan't have necessity of to fake the traces of any kind of weapon...

+GIBBS+

He stiffens under my touch and I note the instinctive reaction to reach for his weapon...of which he isn't wearing. I smile into the kiss and push at his chest until he lays on his back with myself between his legs. I lazily kiss his mouth before licking along the unresponsive lips until he parts them. My tongue sneaks into his mouth and I lick along his teeth, tasting the bourbon and ash from his cigarette. I don't understand my reaction...but for some unknown reason...I am gentle with him and after a hesitant while, he returns the soft kissing

+KORT+

Yes...He is almost everything like me. My gesture to grab the gun is a conditioned reflex, it makes me live permanently on red alert. Like now. I could easily reject him and run away. But I don't do it. I spread my legs even more, placing unconsciously my low belly against his. I need the friction, as before, in the parking lot...but I feel that I need more. Much more. And for him...I bet if that I break the kiss and attack his cock and testicles with my mouth and my tongue, he could even scream like a beast...It happens to me...Why not also to him?

+GIBBS+

He is hard against me and I lean down, rubbing myself against him in order to create the delicious friction I crave. I pull away and gaze down at him, smirking at the almost black eye with the tiniest ring of jade, before I nuzzle his chest. A growled whine escapes his throat and it causes my own hips to instinctively thrust against him. I decide that I need to taste him...to see him in all his glory. I strip out of my boxers, my cock slapping my stomach in my haste, before quickly removing his.

His cock...hard and leaking...perfect. I gaze into his eye as I softly lick at the crown, swallowing the precum and loving the musky Scent. He growls and I smirk as I nuzzle the chocolate curls at the base before pulling back and swallowing him whole

+KORT+

This is what I've craved for so long! To be engulfed by one so strong as I and not by one of these little 'Twinks' with dormant eyes, poisoned by metastasis or ephedrine and slaves of their own desire to appear like snobs! He gives me the utmost pleasure. A pleasure that includes the infinite territory of anguish in all its vaporous extension. I decide to reply in an identical way. I make a one hundred and eighty degree turn and take his own magnificent cock in my mouth, so, we are entangled in the forbidden position for the ultimate pleasure: the infamous 'sixty nine'.

His cock hangs all over my mouth, caressing my face, soaking it with the precious eruption of its precum. I take my prey with my lips, savouring the taste, salty, absolutely male, almost ferocious and suck the glands, while traveling the tip with the extreme of my tongue. Then, mirroring his action and knowing the proximity of the preliminaries for my orgasm, I swallow the entire jewel and I enjoy the presence of that exquisite intruder in the deepest corners of my eager throat.

+GIBBS+

I frown at the way he pushes me away but nod with a smirk as he positions himself under my own cock. A growl escapes my throat as his surprisingly soft tongue caresses along my shaft and I lean down to return the favour. It isn't long until we move as one, thrusting and swallowing each other until we erupt as one. I swallow every last drop before pulling away and licking him clean as he copies the gesture.

Once I have finished, I turn and lower myself ontop of his strong chest before nuzzling his neck and drift off into the darkness of sleep.

+KORT+

He has fallen asleep all over my chest, maybe lulled by my breathing, that I have learnt to control as the beasts usually do. I light another cigarette and wait, looking at the ceiling and can envision the ambiance as it was in the past: I am sure it has been fulfilled by infantile laughter and chants and the rumour of kisses.

I stealthily get up, placing his head on one of the cushions and covering him with an old blanket that was hanging from the couch's back. I observe (After all, I'm a Spy!) and discover, just on the hearth, two photographs: one of them shows a younger version of him, in the Marine Corps, with two men who look like Officers. One of the men is older, the other seems younger and somewhat tender. I can write a story upon this photo...I have no doubts that that the younger man, the Officer (A Lieutenant) was in some way tied to him...love? Respect? Death? Maybe the three of them. I continue my 'perusal' and discover another picture: a smiling old man raising an enormous fish (That it seems he has just captured), standing by a pond.

This makes me recall of my GrandFather, Thomas and my Uncle, whose name I have: they were the only ones who treated me with kindness. When GrandFather Thomas died and uncle Trent went in Prison for that crime he didn't commit...I remained alone in that horrid 'menagerie', or 'abattoir', as I used to name that subcutaneous of a home I had. Mother couldn't do nothing...Tuberculosis, abuse and violence finished with her.

Putting aside my own disasters, I come across two more photograph: that very same old man in his early youth, during the War II, on board of his Mirage...and in an attached photo, laughing and posing with two Officers, one of them...a young Lieutenant in the RAF? Yes...Wait, wait, wait! Is that one...Uncle Trent!?

+GIBBS+

A shiver runs along my spine, tugging me away from the blessed peace that only sleep can bring. I slowly crack open my eye and smirk as I spot him asleep in the chair. Once I have stretched and shaken myself awake, I head closer to actually look at him.

He seems to have had a hard life (Much like my own) according to the scars and bullet wounds that dot all over his olive skin. I reach out and gently stroke along the center of his chest, marveling at the way he doesn't flinch from my touch (He trusts you? He must do, as Kort isn't known for letting people near...) I shake myself out from my humbling thoughts and go to stand, only to pause as I notice the photoframe containing the photo of my Dad during his Second World War being held within his grip. I frown and go take it away...only to still at the whimper of distress. I decide to leave it and turn to grab the blanket before gently covering the sleeping man with it. A soft smile crosses my face as I watch him curl up and softly chuckle to myself as I lay down on my sofa before also drifting off

+KORT+

I awake in a dizziness of alcohol, rancid odour of sex and sad memories. Getting up as quickly as I can from that improvised bed, I put my shirt on (Fuck you, Cobbs...You, cursed son of a bitch! You knew how to make me remember you forever...The traces still ache when it's raining!) and grab my gun, my trench coat and my cap. I recall I've left the car just in the Club's parking lot...So, I shall be compelled to walk. Just in that very same instant, I notice two more photographs, half hidden in the same place, that are now more visible thanks to the dim light of the cloudy morning entering through the curtains. One of them shows a still young woman, smiling, holding hands with a little girl (Just like Mum and Rachel used to do!). Yes, it must be his lost family. I sigh and my eye travels to another photograph...only to receive a hit of astonishment. (Why does he keep only the photograph of his Senior field Agent instead of one with all his Team and co-workers? It's rare...it's very rare!)

(Next Morning)

+GIBBS+

As I awake...I sense him gone and sigh as I open my eyes to find that I am correct. I lay there staring at the folded blanket and note that he has placed the photo back onto the side. A frown crosses my face at the flash of hurt that blossoms within my chest as I stare at where the man was...

+KORT+

There have been hours of random walking after to have left that house. That last photograph...I know that infamous Senior Field Agent Anthony DiNozzo Junior and I've always noticed his animosity towards me. Why? It is a matter of skin, as they usually say. My skin and his skin don't get along. I arrive to the hotel where I pretend to have a life (What is a life? I don't recall to have ever known it), I ask for my keys and enter the elevator, wishing only a stream of tepid water all over my body...and the blessing of an entire day of sleep.

(Navy Yard)

+GIBBS+

I sit there gazing at my computer while drinking my ever present cup of coffee and sigh as the memories of the past night flutter past my eyes. A growl escapes my throat as I feel my jeans becoming tight and turn with a glare as I hear Tonys distinctive chuckle. I stand and silently walk up to him before cuffing him across the head, inwardly smirking as the man jumps before scurrying to his desk.

I roll my eyes and go to head upstairs to MTAC, only to turn as I sense movement...and my heart stutters as I spot the British man slinking out of the shadows

+KORT+

I curse the fact these idiots have called me at the last minute. I delayed my well deserved sleep and after a rapid cup of tea (That was bad: tea must be tasted slowly, very slowly, GrandFather used to say), I dressed more 'conveniently' and came quickly to the Navy building.

Vance is a sage man, by all means. He trusts Gibbs and maybe nobody else? But I may be among the little bunch of 'half trusted' ones, since he called me personally, without intermediaries. Well, after all, it is a CIA business and the remainders of the Frankenstein Operation are still in the air (So to speak).

Gibbs looks at me, but nobody notices his Sniper's gaze. (The man is good...very good! The best one I have known and this is too much, really...I have a great deal!).

Then Vances gestures him and the former Marine climbs up the stairs, two steps at a time.

+GIBBS+

I half listen as Vance goes on and on about the Frankenstein Operation and how it is to be kept Top Secret. He rattles on about how well the Agencies worked together and such. I roll my eyes and glance in the direction of the Brit.

I notice that he too is faking interest and a smirk crosses my face. I slit my eyes in a playful gesture and decide to see if I can get a reaction as I stretch my leg out and rub my foot against his leg in a flirty gesture.

+KORT+

He is behaving childish...I like this part of him. Maybe he has it very, very hidden to everyone. But not to me.

When the annoying meeting ends, as we leave...he approaches "Later, in the coffee shop?"

I offer my best sarcastic smirk "Later is a very vague adverb...Later...when?"

"Two hours, more or less"

I smirk again and the only grimace that can't compete with mine is his. Passing by the elevator's gates, I can sense a pair of inquisitive, brightening green eyes glued to my back.

+GIBBS+

I bite my lip as I attempt to hide the fact I am excited as I haven't been in a long time...a very long time. After taking a few deep breaths, I head to my desk and ignore the inquisitive gazes of my Team as I sit down and check my e-mails. I feel Tonys annoyance and hide my smirk as I wait to see how long it'll take...it don't take long

"Boss? What did Toothpick want with you and the one-eyed teabag?"

I look up and give him my annoyed look "Have you found a break on your Cold Case?"

"No...but-"

"No 'buts' DiNozzo! If you can't be bothered...I am sure I can find you something more 'productive' to do, so you won't have time to be wondering what the important talks your 'Boss' is having with the 'Director' and the CIA Operative Trent Kort" I gaze at him "So, what is your answer?"

His eyes flash with some unknown emotion and I spot him gritting his teeth as he growls "No Boss, I'm 'fine' Boss" with that he continues reviewing his current folder.

I roll my eyes as I turn back to my own boringly important folders as I count the minutes until my meeting with Thomas

(Coffee Shop)

+KORT+

The steward got surprised when I asked for a simple black tea. I chose this cafe because they allow people to smoke inside and I can't stay too much in the daylight (Yes, idiot, you are like a vampire!). There are too many 'old acquaintances' maybe interested in to silence my mouth forever. So, I read the newspaper (These Americans don't know about football? Where is the sports' page?), distractedly, until the little bell on the main door send their merry tingling sound...but they aren't alone in their tingling.

When I can see him, with his long trench coat, navy blue, deliberately open to show the wide trousers that host the most magnificent cock I've ever seen (Not even when I worked in the shores as a casual rent boy...too many years ago..too many!) and that simple white shirt and that undershirt whose white collar fights with the softly pink shades of his skin...I feel my own balls tingling...I could cum here, with a sole touch of my hand, under the table...

+GIBBS+

I spot him in the shadows and smirk (I'm probably the only one that would notice him) as I head over while discreetly checking for the exits and for any sign of danger before sliding into the small booth. A smile crosses my face as he pushes a cup of black coffee towards me

"I ordered you it"

I nod and take a sip, letting out a soft groan as the hot liquid bathes my tongue before smirking at him "Thank-You Thomas"

He replies with a smirk of his own as his jade eye fixes my blues "You are Welcome...Leroy"

A chuckle escapes my chest but then I go quiet as I break the eye contact and gaze into the black liquid "Why...Why did you leave before I woke?"

+KORT+

"I always have lo leave" I state and I must say that I'm being sincere this time "A matter of habit, an old custom since my first days in the War College and then in the Agency"

"Aren't you in the Agency anymore?" he dares to ask and I see with extreme pleasure that he avoids sugar exactly as I do

"I've been demoted" I attempt to smile, but I only can grimace "Think about me as if I were a sort of annoying rogue..."

+GIBBS+

I nod as I silently drink my coffee while trying to over the hurt I still feel from when I found him gone. I feel his eye watching me as I drink and I sigh as I look up at him "I never found you annoying...granted, it took me a while to trust you but..." I go quiet as I try to figure out what I want to say (You want a repeat? Or do you want more? How does he feel? Did he regret our 'encounter' and would have preferred to remain in the shadows like he had done for the weeks while watching me?) I shake myself and stand before gazing at him, noticing the spark of panic within the jade eye, as I discreetly stroke his cheek "I would...I want..." I glance around and gently brush my lips against his. I look into his eye "My door is always open for you" with that I turn and leave

+KORT+

He said the words and I couldn't reply. And I am a fast replicator! But he surprised me...he literally defeated me with his trust and understanding (Understanding? Does he really 'UNDERSTAND' me? If it is so, really so, it shall be terrible!) I rub my forehead and I sincerely wish Cobbs would have finished his task. Life is becoming too nauseating...If one like Gibbs literally OPENS UP to one like me...and knowing very well who is he dealing with...If life gives this to me, almost in the end...should I take profit, or simply close myself in denial?

(Navy Yard)

+GIBBS+

I'm back at my desk, ignoring everyone and everything as I nervously think about what I had just done (You want him, you liked falling asleep on his chest? He is a killer like yourself! But yet...he trusted you, he let you see him while sleeping...) I sigh as I shake the thoughts of feeling that hard body pressing up against my own and turn back to my paperwork (Is he a bottom or a top?) An almost silent groan escapes my throat as I imagine him beneath me as I pound into his body, myself between his spread legs. I angrily headslap myself as I try to concentrate...only for a new image to pop up, of myself straddling his lap as I rock ontop of his cock, fucking myself on him as he takes my hips in his large hands as he thrusts up into my body. I slap the desk to snap myself out of my erotic thoughts, with the bonus of making everyone else jump, before standing and storming off in the direction of the mens.

I pace the floor in frustration (You like him...really like him?) I shake my head and lean against the wall (You like him but not love him...its lust, that is it! It can't be like Langer...) a sigh resounds in my chest "You're lusting after him...as you can't have the one you love" with that I leave the gents and attempt to finish my paperwork, while ignoring the questioning looks and the way a small voice within my head...calls me a liar

+KORT+

I wandered randomly for half the day, running some errands, like retrieving the money from the diamonds I reached to stole before the pandemonium exploded. Cursed Cobbs! He promised to divide the plunder with me and he wanted everything for himself. Cursed son of one thousand bitches! Taking my eye wasn't enough...I would have submitted willingly to that if it could mean more than one hundred millions to share...But he broke the deal! And kidnapped those two pieces of crap...well, the young boy really made me feel pitied. So, I helped him and I received the worst of Cobbs 'specialties' (That were the same ones I myself had taught to him). Can I call this a 'karmic retribution'? I suppose this works so, effectively...Now, I am two blocks away from Gibbs' house...Should I come out there?

+GIBBS+

After pacing the floor I decided to head to the basement and begin the strong soothing strokes of the sandpaper against the ribs of my newest boat and it isn't long before I am distracted as I rub the block until the wood is a smooth as skin. My jeans become tight as I think about my 'Guest' arriving (Will he turn up? You took him by surprise kissing him in the cafe) a smile crosses my face as I run my tongue over my lip and my eyes flutter close as my back arches in pleasure.

A growl escapes my chest as I rock my hips at every thrust of the paper over the wood and I groan at the delicious pressure of my trapped cock within my jeans, but refuse to release the pressure as my shirt begins to stick to my body and I blink away the sweat from my eyes before smirking as I feel his presence "Do you want to join in?"

+KORT+

"Of course I do, Gibbs...Otherwise I wouldn't have come" I go downstairs with a slow pace, undoing my leather jacket and my shirt "I think this view can turn you on?" I ask, mischievously...and maybe it's more an affirmation than a question?

Then, after a long pause during which I reach a position...just so I can look at him face to face, I intentionally try another question "You don't mind to do it with a man who is missing an eye?"

And he cross-examines "And you don't mind to do it with a man who is missing the other half of himself?"

+GIBBS+

I notice his mask slipping and gently tug him onto my lap as I lean against the boat. His body tenses as he sits on my hard clothed cock and I gaze into his jade eye before blinking the sweat from my own eyes. I lean forward as he peels off my soaked shirt and shiver at the cool breeze along my heated skin. A smile crosses my face as I hesitantly nuzzle his chest before taking his lips in a soft kiss as I flex my hips under him, but he surprises me by pinning my wrists above my head before passionately (And...desperately?) taking control of the kiss. I arch against him and growl as he grinds himself down onto me...keeping me prisoner against my boat and my eyes flash in delight at the move

+KORT+

Who could have imagined that the tough Leroy Jethro Gibbs liked to be subdued? Because I can read the delight in his astonishingly beautiful blue eyes (His eyes are identical to Alfred Townsend's...did you notice that, Trent?) I show my ability, without loosing my temper. I grab one of his legs and hook it around my waist. So crude, so direct, so dry. I undo my trousers and let my hard cock come out. In spite I'm leaking, I show him the most cold countenance and my features don't express anything but the urge of to submit his body. His breathing becomes anxious; I can see threads, long fringes of foam escaping from the corner of his mouth "Well, Gibbs... " I begin, controlling my breathing in a display of my extraordinary skills "This is like a fight. Fighters must proceed with loyalty" I show my teeth, to make him know I'm lying in this part, while undoing his fly and dropping his wide jeans to his ankles "Now, I go for no boundaries, nor stretching, nor any kind of lubrication! Raw and dry?"

And it is the Marine's controlled, cold voice the one that replies to me "Raw and dry"

+GIBBS+

I cry out in pain...and pleasure as I'm impaled onto that thick hard cock (Not as long or as thick as myself...but I could get used to it!). I blink away the tears as I growl and lean forward to sink my teeth into his shoulder before biting hard enough to taste blood as he viciously pounds into my body. He cries out in shock and I smirk before biting even harder as my back is slammed against the woodwork. I snarl around my mouthful as I am taken into the pleasure/pain of sex

+KORT+

He is just as I imagined when I felt his delicious shivering at the very instant I cuffed his wrists with my hands above his head. This man was craving for domination...as much as I do. People tend to see us as permanent dominant beasts (What effectively we are, of course) but they forget about our secret cravings...or do they prefer to close their eyes and to not see them? I thrust, enjoying the pain of to have been bitten so viciously and I absolutely go to bite him back. I choose his neck, his powerful but definitely silky neck, that vase of pink flesh roses, that throbbing wonder of nature. I feel myself palpitating inside his tightness.

I bite and send my profound breathing up, dragging my own semen that is impatient to cross the confinement of my balls, back to the marrow of my bones...It feels so good, it feels so ancestral, it feels so perfect! He moans and I restrain my own whines, my own desperate whines, letting the need wrapping me like a strange drunkenness. Yes, I'm drunk on his beauty. I'm drunk on his sex. I'm drunk on the trembling cock that rubs desperately (As if it had a life totally independent from its Owner) against my chest...enjoying the furred surface...I crave for to have my own curled chest hair matted in his sticky milk...

+GIBBS+

His teeth sink into my neck and I groan as I bite harder, enjoying the whimper I hear and feel from his chest that he tries to keep quiet. I flex my hips and rub my cock against his fur coated chest and snarl as I turn my head and bite him on the juncture where shoulder meets neck...I groan in delight as I hear/feel him climax within me.

A soft whimper escapes my throat as my hard cock twitches in effort to achieve its own release. I flex my hips onto his softening cock and try to rub myself against him "Please...Thomas? Please...I...I need?"

+KORT+

My orgasm was strong and it was controlled, fully controlled by my own breathing. I already feel the pleasure making me shiver, but I don't want him noticing that he has any kind of power over me. I pull out brutally and kneel before him, engulfing his cock and tasting the tons of precum it leaks, a creamy liquid whose saltiness makes my tongue shrivel up. But I don't care, because the salty flavour is another source of my personal pleasure. I lick the powerful glands, a crown worthy of a God, with a long burn hole in its tip, just in the middle...I introduce the extreme of my tongue into that ripped pinhole, tearing from him a desperate cry.

"Please...Thomas! Can't hold on any...anymore!"

I suck the soft skin, making it rub all over the body of that engorged, magnificent cock. And I am rewarded by the most precious price: a flood of delicious, juicy sperm...that satisfies my hunger, passing through my throat and leaving the bitter feeling of its aftertaste.

+GIBBS+

I lean back against the wall before slowly sliding to the floor as my legs turn to jelly and chuckle at the startled look on his face as I end up in his lap "Thanks..."

His eye slits in confusion and I watch him as he gazes at me "Thanks for what?"

I shrug as I nuzzle his chest "Thanks for coming here" I pull back and lift a hand to finger the bloody bite mark I have left on his shoulder "I should have controlled myself better...I shouldn't have broken the skin"

+KORT+

"Don't worry about my skin" I reply "These aren't the scars that hurt the most" I help him to get onto his feet and he fixes those incredible ocean blue lights into my solitary eye and asks

"And which are the the scars that hurt you the most, Trent?"

I laugh "Now you go for my first name, Jethro!" and I take off my bottle of Scotch, offering him a sip.

He refuses and goes to search for his beloved Bourbon, pouring a little glass for himself.

Then I shrug and can't avoid the loud voice meditation "Who cares about what hurts me the most?" I drink a long swig and wipe my humid mouth with my hand. The hard taste of the Whisky has mixed with the remainders of his cum.

He drinks, very slowly and faces me as if we were in one of his Interrogation rooms "I, myself...I do"

+GIBBS+

I watch as shock, hope, longing crosses his face before he hides it behind his mask once more and sigh "Trent...did you honestly think I wouldn't care?"

He shrugs and avoids my gaze as he continues drinking his Scotch.

I huff as I grab my discarded boxers and tug them on before walking over to him. My hand takes his wrist and I gaze into his jade eye as I whisper "Stay?" before taking his lips into a soft kiss

+KORT+

No, I can't allow myself to feel as I think I'm feeling now...what I'm feeling now. It would be unworthy. I have done this one hundred...no, one thousand times with many men, when working as a male prostitute...and when in the Agency, to be able to get information. Men desired my body and they were allowed to have it for a while, in exchange for money or secret Data. And when they were done...they never saw me again or they maybe saw my face like their last image before their deaths.

But this? No...this happened to me only once, when I was sixteen and inexperienced...and already used to believe in some kind of human affection. A sort of feeble belief in humanity that I buried three times: with GrandFather Thomas, with uncle Trent, with Alfred Townsend...so young, so defenseless in that obscure alley, lying down among the rats and the dirt...soaked by the rain and stained by the mud...

+GIBBS+

I watch as the emotions run across his face and decide that I have had enough.

He starts as I take his hand and tug him up the stairs before mounting the stairs to my bedroom.

I am shocked by the way he allows this and I turn to glance at his eye...and sigh at the glazed expression I spot (He is trapped in his thoughts...and they don't seem to be pleasant ones) with that I gently push him on the bed before jogging downstairs to lock up the house (Everyone would be shocked to hear that I only lock the door while I have company!).

Once everything is locked, I do a u-turn and run back upstairs...but pause in the doorway as I spot him sleeping. A chuckle escapes my chest as I strip and lay down beside him, tensing as he suddenly turns over and wraps his arms tightly around me while whispering "

I'm Sorry Alfred...I'm Sorry"

I return the embrace and softly stroke his back while watching him sleep as dawn breaks

+KORT+

I can see the clarity penetrating by the net curtains. It seems it shall be a sunny day after all these past stormy ones. I sigh. Maybe I have said something during my sleep, because he holds me very tightly, in an attitude that reveals, at the same time, concern and protectiveness.

The legendary Gibbs! The incorruptible Marine! The Gunnery Sergeant, the Sniper that never failed a shot! A clean-fingered man with a simple life who was compelled to wear a permanent mask, exactly as it happened with me. I discover something, travelling my unique eye across the room (It's surprising how all my sight has been concentrated in this lonely eye of mine! I don't miss the other anymore!).

On the the beautiful hand made (For sure!) commode (Fine mahogany with delicate watermarks representing a magic wood) I can see the portrait of a man I have seen before: a man who isn't alive anymore. Brent Langer, Special Supervisory Agent, former FBI, joined NCIS, was killed in a failed operative, suspected of espionage. Too bad. Fake information guides people to bad decisions. I knew he has worked with Gibbs while the problematic DiNozzo was afloat...but not even a skilled Spy as I am could have imagined how important he must have been for Gibbs. I deduce he was his Lover and I know I'm not wrong. I also know that I was dreaming of Alfred Townsend again, after many many years...It was because of Gibbs' eyes...Gibbs has HIS eyes...Yes, they must have been the eyes...

+GIBBS+

I awake at the feeling of the body in my arms moving and I instinctively pull him tighter against me "Kort...?"

"Go to sleep"

I chuckle as I roll up and over so I am plastered against his chest before looking up with a playful smile at the shocked look on his face (People seem to not realise that I am not always the serious silent Marine) and I lean forward to take his lips in a passionate kiss. I pin his wrists above his head and use my extra weight to pin his body against the mattress "You had your turn last night...now it is mine" with that I force his legs open and move between them, pausing as he suddenly tenses and I frown as I let him go while gently rubbing at his chest, to sooth his sudden panic "Trent...?"

+KORT+

I have been fucked senselessly many times...As I've stated, my body was given for money or in exchange of information to any man who could ask for it. I learnt how to do not allow it to ache anymore. Aching in the flesh, or aching in the Soul...but his attitude surprises me. I have just discovered something from his immediate Past and he is attempting to 'give me back the favour' "Sure" I say, recovering myself almost immediately "Sure, you can have me..."

He looks into my eye (No, please, no!) and asks "So coldly?"

"As you wish" I give back the kiss with all the passion I can't allow myself to feel, to experience. But, for some reason, I want to let myself go...to explore his mouth with my tongue and spread my legs even more, raising my hips to allow his body to take position in between my thighs. It seems he doesn't want me on my hands and knees...He wants to look at my face while doing it. While doing me. While taking possession of my last fortress. The hidden fortress of my own prostate. I know about my sensitiveness, that is concentrated in my nipples and just there, behind my balls, where the roots of the sac are placed.

So cold, yes, Scrotum, Sac, Anus. So cold and so scientific. He attaches his mouth to my nipples and I can't do anything, but moan loudly. It is like a sign of my despicable weakness!

+GIBBS+

I spot him trying to distance himself from our lovemaking and smirk as I suck and lick at his nipples, tearing out surprised aroused groans from his chest. My eyes slit in a playful gesture as my left hand trails down his furry body to caress and tug at his balls. His body arches in pleasure and I know that I have found both hotspots. I continue with the pleasuring torture until his eye flutters closed and I chuckle as I release his nipples before kissing down his body until I am level with his hard leaking cock. I gaze up to watch a darken jade eye watching my every move and I soak my right finger before trailing it down to his entrance. A smirk crosses my face as I push in my finger at the same time I swallow him down to the base, deep throating him while I stretch him open to take my big hard cock.

+KORT+

I'm not used to be stretched...but it feels so good! While this can remain at this point, without further implicitness, I don't care...but the fact is that it seems to be getting out of hand...He swallows my entire cock and I am a big one. Not as big as he is, however. I gaze to his cock and it looks monstrous. How could it feel to have Jethro Gibbs' whole penis inside me? He knows how to put me on the edge. He licks all my cock, from the base to the crown, mouth open, showing how his saliva falls down bathing the curled backstage of my engorged manhood. A manhood I should be proud of...However...sometimes I would have liked to be like normal people are: to have a Lover, to settle down, to inhabit a little house in a hill surrounded by the white fence and the trees...Vain. Everything is, has been and shall be vain. I'm cursed since I was in my Mother's womb...

+GIBBS+

I feel his muscles tense as he tries not to enjoy the sensations and I slit my eyes as I push him harder, using all my knowledge that I have learnt over the years to give him the utmost pleasure (I wonder what happened to you? Why do you feel unworthy?). I stretch him with three...no...four fingers, before getting ready and smirk as I suddenly swallow him whole while repeatedly fingering his prostate until he bathes my tongue and throat in his salty cream.

Once I have licked him clean, I kiss up his stomach, his chest, his neck...until I take his lips while pressing all the way in until I bottom out. He lets out a grunt of pain and I still to let him adjust as I enjoy the connection. My eyes look into his own confused jade one and I give him my trademark half smile before nuzzling his neck as I make slow, sweet love to the man...who I don't think has ever felt worthy, one Soul that has been used and abused until he had forgotten his own innocence...a man who has never felt truly loved...a man who I am falling for

+KORT+

Why is he being so gentle with me? His manhood is too huge and it aches...But I can endure, I want to show him I can endure this, as I've endured the torments Cobbs rehearsed in/on my body. I have given my arse more than one thousand times (I guess so), but I feel this time is different? He kissed me and in the bittersweet taste he left in my tongue I could savour myself and his mouth, at once. His saliva was full of me, his mouth was delightfully re-tasting what I always thought of as the major nausea: an useless liquor, the dirt born from my blood and the marrow of my bones...Less than nothing, less than the mud that covered the pond where I threw those five corpses after to have strangled those men to death. I'm the specialist, trained by the best. A teacher I betrayed to this man's requisition.

This man, this Warrior (He is worthy of to be called so, I'm not!), who is now panting and moaning and showing all what makes his great, absolutely and really great: his own weakness, his own humanity...

+GIBBS+

I spot the confusion within his eye and smirk as I shallowly thrust into his strong body. My orgasm starts to approach and I begin to move faster before wrapping my hand around his straining cock. I lean forward and growl "Cum...cum for me, Kort"

His body stiffens and he cries out while coating our chests in his seamen.

I growl as I thrust twice more before climaxing within him and collapsing ontop of his panting body as my cock still pulses deep inside.

+KORT+

He tore from me what he wanted. My orgasm, my surrender...my supreme pain and pleasure. I fight to catch my breath again. He lies down beside me, cleaning us with a little towel what my infamous body has brought to his senses

"That was good" he says,with his husky, not exactly melodious but still harmonious voice, after to have recovered the air that his lungs were begging for.

I nod, covering my eye and my forehead with my arm. I don't want to look at him. If I look at him, I would reveal how profoundly touched, how irremediably hurt I feel now. I could listen to a distorted name while he was pushing and pushing against my prostate. And it as a hard task I imposed to myself, not to react to that powerful, irresistible stimulation. But the word made me freeze and I kept my silence. A word with four letters, a name, a very well known name...(So, he loves him. Exactly as I had imagined when I spotted his photograph just behind the one with his lost family. He loves him in a way that makes him to put his name as the natural successor for that lost happiness...He is the name his new happiness would have...if only that ignorant man would be able to know!)

+GIBBS+

I gaze at him and inwardly sigh as he covers his face with his hand. I shake my head as I curl against his side with my head resting on his chest...I know that I am using him, as I miss the lazy mornings with Langer...waking up next to another warm body with a beating heart...He goes to move, but I stop him by instinctively wrapping my arms around him "Don't go...not yet...please?"

+KORT+

He wants me to rest. I suppose I need to agree with his petition, because I, literally, don't have anywhere else to go. The Hotel offers me a nude suite with cold walls and a frozen luxury that I'm not interested in. In the Hotel I'm an anonymous 'Guest', I loose my name, my person, remain silent, obscure and hidden (But isn't this what you want, Kort?). In my Hotel room the sun penetrates but it doesn't enlighten; the warm pretends to play jokes covering the infinite coldness of my Soul with mechanical flames. I'm a name, a presence who runs to hide himself in the false womb that offers the solitary room, where there isn't anything but whisky and smoke and shadows coming from the Past...then the light goes out and the sun begins to fall. And when it rains...ah, when it rains! The effect of solitude increases and the barrel of my gun is a powerful temptation for my gnashing teeth...

+GIBBS+

A smile crosses my face as he decides to stay and I curl up tighter around him as I share my body heat while listening to his heart. I close my eyes and sigh as I feel a peace I haven't felt since that morning...that awful day when Brent Langer was murdered and accused of being a Traitor.

A shiver of regret runs through my body and I press closer, taking comfort with the warmth of the man beside me (Could you ever believe that you would have been comfortable with one like Kort?) I sigh as I nuzzle his chest (Why not? We are both cut from the same cloth...we have both murdered in the name of our County...for revenge...for personal gain). I smile as I rub my face against his chest (Yes...we are both lonely Souls)

+KORT+

He has found in me an equal. But there are many differences: I don't pine for anybody who is still alive and breathing and walking; I don't have any kind of honour and I'm a Traitor...something that he never could be. He is pure, loyal, decent. He has the qualities I have craved for (Once: now, no more). He has loved and has been loved in exchange. He is still capable of loving again (What I'm not...Am I?). He overcame everything and is still on his feet. A hero an example, the kind of man a Parent would put as a role model for his Sons. I, myself, on the other hand...A rogue, a Spy, a bastard that came directly from misery (Not poverty, only but the misery of the Soul!), a murderer, a man without any sort of scruples, who does everything for money and to move up in the ranks of the Agency: a cold Assassin, this is what I am. I killed mercilessly men, women, even children...I had no remorse. I had no regrets. Nor repentance. I am the curse of Evil.

+GIBBS+

I enjoy his company...and I think he also enjoys the day.

We shared a quiet breakfast...or an 'elevenses' as he referred to as it? (I'll have to ask Duck about that) before I told him about the boat I'm building and we even shared an hour or so sanding, just enjoying each others company. I notice him smiling more than usual and...and I like it, it makes him seem younger...more innocent. We sit down and enjoy the steak and potatoes I cook before sharing a beer together.

+KORT+

I must admit...I had a nice day, as I have had in many many years. He does everything for me, as if he considered my friend, a friend I've known for years. Really, I've known him since...how many years go? Five? Six? It doesn't matter. He does everything in a so pure, sincere and simple way, that I can't do anything but smile. I confess that my face aches a bit when I smile: it hasn't been used to do this for years.

He reminds me a lot of Alfred: stoic, few words, smiling the just amount of time to make me feel ...'something'...no...'someone'...I sip my beer fixing my eye on him, enjoying the fresh bubbly liquid when it scratches my throat. He cooked for me, he taught me his most beloved craft: the woodcarving, the managing of those delicate, beautiful tools that seem like magic in his hands. And what a hands, Ye Gods! Hands made to be worshiped, kissed, adored...caressed and kissed and even bathed with the bittersweet humidity that only comes from tears...tears, what I can't nor couldn't give him in anyway.

Tears. is weakness. I have been taught so.

+GIBBS+

After the enjoyable day...I pause as I notice the time before turning to him "Can you stay?"

He glances at me and I notice the longing within his gaze, but sigh as he shakes his head and stands "No...I have to go"

I glance at the floor "Why? Can't you at least stay the night again?"

He shakes his head and pulls on his trench coat...but shocks me by kissing my cheek before leaving.

I stand there...watching the door where he left and sigh as I tidy up before heading to my cold bed.

I lay there, missing the warmth from another body and huff as I get up and head downstairs to lay on the couch.

I wrap myself in the blanket and refuse to let the tears fall as I am once more on my own

+KORT+

My gun.

It has a barrel.

I should avoid the temptation.

Gun plus barrel plus vodka.

It has been too much...I already have something. The little piece of ribbon Alfred gave to me (We couldn't afford jewels then!)...Its colours have almost vanished yet, I recall the brightening red, the soft blue, the stunning yellow...We played with the colours imagining stories. Mine had an old and silly Pirate travelling the world in his boat made of pasteboard, with speaking animals, singing and dancing around...I smile due to the coincidence: I've found my Captain, I guess...But he belongs to another ship. I talk to Alfred's remembrance as I always do when I get drunk and I think he smiles too and indicates to me that he is happy, he is somewhere else, a better place, where animals effectively talk and the boats are made with pasteboard and the sky is eternally blue...like his eyes...like Gibbs' eyes...I'm desperately drunk...the barrel of my gun (The temptation) is there...

+GIBBS+

I must have been asleep as the shilling of the blasted mobile shatters my pleasant dream of Tony making love to me under my boat.

I shake myself out of the erotic thoughts as I pick up the annoying thing and answer it "Gibbs!"

"Ahh...I shoulda not called"

I frown and pull back to glance at the screen (Kort?) before sitting up "Trent? You ok?"

"Ha! I could not be...never be...I is thinking-"

I roll my eyes and lean back "You're drunk, go to sleep"

"Can't...want to speak to the animals..."

A frown crosses my face (Animals...?) I shake my head and yawn "What are you on about?"

"I'm staring at my gun...do you think I shall see the lights?"

My blood runs cold "G-Gun!?" I quickly get up and chuck on some clothes before running out the door into the rain "Where are you?" he gives me the address of a Hotel and I jump into my car, praying I get there in time

+KORT+

I shouldn't have given him the address...No, Sir...I shouldn't (I am so drunk, so irretrievably d-drunk!) No, he shouldn't come here, to see how my splattered brains stain the walls, the furniture, the floor...this rug, this precious rug!

I notice the rug is blue?

Yes, it is blue!

Like his eyes, like Alfred's eyes...Alfred shall come here if I eat the gun. It shall be an instant then, I will be in the ship, with the talking animals and Alfred...and the giraffe...and the crocodile...and the birds flying around my head...I shall sing and dance and enjoy and life and love...It's a matter of fact, therefore...I...shall bite the barrel of my gun...but I don't want him to see me after...I don't want Gibbs complaining about an imaginary guilt, blaming himself again...He has nothing to blame himself for...He is in-innocent! He is p-pure! He is...(I should vomit first before I eat the gun, I should throw up what I have in my stomach)...He is...he is...He is the one I love.

+GIBBS+

My heart pounds in my chest and I struggle to breath as I run up the stairs to his room. I force the door open and pause at the sight of him on the bed with his gun under his chin "T...Thomas?"

He focuses his blurry eye on me and I watch surprise and confusion spark within "G-Gibbs? What you doing...?" He glances around the room before asking "Did...did Alfred send you?"

I frown and decided to play along "Yeah...he sent me" with that I move closer "Give me the gun...please?"

He frowns and glances down at the object "My gun? You not have! Need it...for protection"

My panic spikes as I spot his finger on the trigger and I move closer "You don't need it! I'll protect you...trust me"

He fixes his eye on me and to my relief, he nods and hands over the weapon before flopping down onto his back.

I sigh and shake my head as I slip the weapon into the back of my trousers before helping him to his feet "Come...I am taking you home"

+KORT+

But I don't have a home. I am and have been always a homeless bloke, a piece of crap wandering around. We travel in his car. He drives so fast as I do...I vomit on the carpet

"It isn't important, Trent...I just was about to clean it up and-"

I cut him dry "I have no need of your p...pity" I state "Nor your m...mercy. I have lived for more than forty years without any of them and I c-can continue...or, better...I c-can cut the thread"

"No, Trent! You have a home" he says, parking the car and immediately embracing me while guiding me to the entrance "This is your home" He faces me "What is mine shall be yours, Trent. I promise"

+GIBBS+

I leave him asleep in my bed as I clean up the vomit from my car (Forty years? But he is only forty-six...what happened from the age of six that made him feel so alone?). I get up and sigh as I finish tidying up the mess before heading inside and storing his gun with my own in the Safe.

Once I lock up the house, I slowly head upstairs to look at him and a soft smile crosses my face as he lays there curled around my pillow. I glance to the photo of Langer and nod to him as I gently strip the sleeping man out of his damp clothes before tucking him in. As I glance down...I can't resist and I move forward to gently kiss his cheek as he had done to me earlier before going to pull away, only to be stopped by a surprisingly strong grip on my wrist

"Stay? I no want to be alone..."

I nod (It's too late now...you have fallen hard for him) and strip myself to my boxers as I spoon up behind him and hold him in my arms "I will protect you Thomas...even from yourself" with that I kiss his shoulder "Now sleep"

+KORT+

He remains with me, his arms encircle my waist and this feels absolutely safe, secure and clean. And pure. I sigh and turn to my dream. Alfred is standing in front of me, holding out his hand. I wish to let me go: his blue eyes are smiling while those long brown lashes are fanning his smile, that beautiful grin he had more visible in his eyes than on his mouth. I want to follow him, to sleep, to not awake anymore...but he puts a finger on his beautiful mouth, indicating silence. I'm so old...and he looks so young! He shall be eternally young, eternally pure, in spite of what killed him...He shall be always innocent...

Gibbs is Alfred as he would have been if life hadn't been a whore, a bitch.

Gibbs is Alfred at a mature age, guiding me, surrounding me, like a hedge.

Gibbs is a pair of ocean blue eyes looking deeply into the abyss of my Soul.

+GIBBS+

I snuggle closer to the warm body and enjoying the feeling of another living person in my arms. I slowly open my eyes and glance down to spot a confused jade eye looking up at me "Hey..."

"You stopped me..."

I nod "Yes, I couldn't allow you to do it"

"...why?"

A frown crosses my face "Why? I don't understand the question, Thomas...you are my friend and I couldn't allow you to end your life as-" I shrug "-I don't have many and so I don't want to lose you" with that I tighten my strong arms around him, tugging him ontop of my chest as I strong his back "I can't have another death on my conscious...not so soon after B-Brent"

+KORT+

"Brent...Trent...there is only a letter between us" I say, kissing his forehead "But I sense his love everywhere here. The difference, however, isn't only a letter: Brent Langer was a honest man" I sigh "Gibbs, I am not..."

He closes his embrace and rolls over, pressing my body against the mattress "Open up" he says "What happened to you?"

"Open up?" I smile, scornfully "And you dare say this to me?"

"You already know about Brent Langer...and about my lost Family...my three ex-Wives..."

I sigh, pining for the truth that can't escape my mouth without hurting "You hush the most important things, Gibbs.

He smirks, his trademark grimace faking a security I know he hasn't "More important than my lost Family...?"

I fix my eye on him. I feel I must not have mercy "Your Mother's suicide, when you were only twelve years old" I pause, facing his silence. As this same silence give me license to continue, I do so "Who is, in your life, Anthony DiNozzo Junior?"

+GIBBS+

I avoid his gaze and slowly swallow "I never hid my Mothers death...it just was never brought up" I look up "As for DiNozzo?" I shrug "I have been lusting after him since he jumped me in Baltimore...but I fell in love with Brent and lived five good years with the honour of him loving me back"

His eye widens in surprise "Five years?"

I nod and smirk as I lay my head on his chest "Yeah...five years...only for him to die under my watch" my vision becomes blurry and I push away the hurtful memories before looking up "I have learnt to live with the fact Tony would never want me...now I-" (Why can't you tell him? You have fallen for him Marine! Tony is only lust and Kort is love! He needs you whereas...whereas Tony would be only ever be just sex!) I gaze onto his jade eye (No...I can't tell him yet) I clear my throat "What is your story? And who is Alfred?"

+KORT+

I am not so convinced. His explanation was too weak. But I decide to talk (After all, I know he knows how to keep a secret) "Alfred was nothing and everything. When I grew up in the dirt and my Mother might work as a beast washing other people's filthy rags to be able to put some bread on our table, I decided I should help her. I fought the cursed drunkard, but I always lost" I pause, sighing "The curse drunkard was my Father. I needed to help Mother and the poor Rachel, my Sister and the little Hiram, my Brother: he had been killed by meningitis when he was only three years old, he was now unable to speak, nor move by himself...He only was able to smile, always smiling...What could I do?

I went out, onto the streets and my first thought was to engage myself in robberies. I knew there was a Gang having their meetings every evening, in the alley, just around the block. I joined them, the Leader was a bloke more or less fifteen years old (I was ten at the time), tall, robust, with nauseating acne scars 'decorating' his reddened face. An Irish Name, Liam. He put me in charge of surveillance while they attacked the cars and trucks to steal the tyres. We even robbed a little grocery and he entertained his cruelty...beating the Owner's Son almost to death. I was scared, but I followed him. He had a boy he used to call his 'Lieutenant': thin, delicate, with piercing blue eyes and a strange ability to turn me on.

I had no idea of what that meant, but I saw him and I wanted to be alone with him, in the alley, in a room, or wherever...touching him, caressing him...kissing him...His name was Alfred Townsend and he has just been released from the Borstal. We became very close and he showed me a new magic: he used to hide a needle and a syringe and told me he was capable to steal interesting things from the pharmacy. I accompanied him and we entered the deposit of the drugstore, fulfilling our frayed pockets with many blisters of a caramel liquid. He taught me how to inject myself and I must admit I began to feel much better. We came back to the pharmacy every night...almost every night...Once, one of the Owners was already there (I never shall be able to forget him!), a fat man, with his thick squared glasses... Alfred didn't hesitate: he drew his pocket knife and hurt the man just when he was about to scream. As the man was still moving, Alfred pointed to me 'We have to finish him off!' he exclaimed..."

+GIBBS+

I pull back in horror "You killed...at aged ten!?" at his shrug, I frown before leaning once more on his chest "It must have been a hard life...in poverty and in a city?" I feel more than see his nod and sigh as I wrap him into my arms "You really loved him...?"

"Yes...he was my first"

I bite my bottom lip "How did he die?" I feel his body stiffen beneath me and I soothingly stroke and nuzzle his chest until he continues his story

+KORT+

"Alfred became a hard addict. We were together for five years. Nobody caught us, we were too good! Once, that Liam, the stupid Leader, challenge me, making scorn of my weakness and my thin body" I swallow...I need a drink, I don't know how to say this...he shall reject me! But I need to tell him and so. I continue "Then I killed him with my own hands. I strangled him, Gibbs...I was only fifteen years old" I sense his horror, I feel his frightfulness when looking at me...But he himself asked for the truth! And so I gave him it... "We lived in hiding, in that alley, the Gang wanted me as their Leader, but I didn't want them around: I only wanted Alfred.

They got dismissed and we began to mess around, wandering, robbing whatever we could to obtain money for to buy a moment of peace. On the other hand, I didn't forget my family. The little Hiram died decently, in a nice bed I purchased for him and with clean sheets, a nice blanket and a beautiful stuffed crocodile...Why a crocodile? I don't know...He was always excited when he saw the pictures of crocodiles in the books...He died so, peacefully, smiling, always smiling. He died in my arms and I paid the burial with the money I stole from a rich Butcher who also wanted to fuck me. Not a problem, I was used to pain and I could dissociate mind and body, to not be able to feel any kind of sufferance. I paid also a Doctor for the poor Rachel and when I discovered that the Rapist has been our own Father...I dragged him to the alley and I stabbed him myself. He fell down as a dirty bag full of excrements...Alfred and I celebrated the victory and he went perhaps beyond: the Police discovered a robbery we had committed in a drugstore and they followed us, finding also my Father's corpse there.

Alfred took the blame and injecting himself with his last dose of heroin, knowing he was overdosing...died alone, cold, dried...while the confusion allowed me to escape. I didn't want to do it, I didn't want to escape! I wanted to die with him! But he asked me a favour: to escape that torturous life. I ran...ran, ran...until I fell down exhausted in front of an old abandoned building, that came to be a church..."

+GIBBS+

My silence hides my horror and I frown as I think over what I have been told. Once I get over the fact of him killing at a young age...my protective side comes into play as I rear up and switch our positions, so Kort is laying across my chest. I nuzzle his neck while cradling him in my arms "You have had a hard life...but no more" He looks up at me in confusion and I reply with my trademark smile "I shall protect you, for now and always" I lean down to kiss his forehead "You shall not be used and abused never again...I promise"

+KORT+

He is the only one who didn't run away when knowing the truth. That truth I have hidden so deeply in my Soul (If it is true that I have one!). He is everything I could never be: honest, loving, loyal, sincere, clean...clean! He has the clarity of a wonderful morning by the sea, he is the beautiful dawn that caresses our lives with the promise of a new beginning. He is the dawning of hope. I snuggle into his chest, listening to the beating of his heart. A strong throbbing, a flush of warm blood, a cover for my pain, a lulling sound for my almost absent sleep...

+GIBBS+

He falls asleep against my chest and I smile as I can spot the way his shoulders slump in relief as he finishes his story (I wonder who else you have told...what was their reaction?). I tighten my hold around him and softly stroke his back as I think through all he has told me. An hour or so, he shifts about and I silently chuckle as he begins to dribble on my chest as he slips into a deeper slumber (He mustn't have been sleeping...I wonder how long since you have had a proper sleep?). I smile as I lay there and enjoy the warmth of another living body in my arms (I shall protect you Kort...protect and...and love you, just as you need) with that I kiss his head and slip into a light doze

(Next Morning)

+Kort+

Another day, but this time after a peaceful sleep. I shouldn't say this, but I feel refreshed...he is still asleep at my side and I would kiss him all along his gorgeous body! But I have things to do. I must go to Langley. I haven't finished yet with those people, this time they shall be after me again. I can't give up: I can't leave, the starving people count on that...and I want to help them. I should go to the bank again, to access the vault and take the spoils. I need to leave the Country as soon as possible: those Priests in Namibia are waiting for help. I need to see the dealer in Amsterdam first, to be able to transfer the money to the mission. Then, I could come back...if only I would be able to change name and maybe go to hide in a quiet village within the Country.  
But...would Gibbs accept to join me there? He is so attached to his duty! Also, he hasn't committed any crime lately that could compel him to abandon everything to change life, name, whereabouts...  
I get up, dress quickly and I decide to go to Langley first. I know they can't forgive me for to have 'delivered' Jarek. It is, for instance, who always hated me, would be charmed if he could be able to put a bullet in my forehead. And so would be Cruz. Cruz is a clown, I can dominate him easily...but...Coulter? He is too much like myself and he was Jarek's special protegé...(this only because I always refused to become his personal toy and puppet). Well, let's see...in the meanwhile, his phone is ringing, Should I reply? The little screen is flashing a name: 'DiNozzo'

+Gibbs+

I open my eyes and watch him go to leave and sigh "You don't have to go..."  
He looks at me in regret before shaking his head "No...I have to go" he heads go leave but before he leaves the room, he turns to face me "But...I shall be back later?"  
I smile and nod "Yes, I shall look forward to it" with that he leaves and I sigh as I decide to get changed and head to the Basement

+Kort+

Now, it shall take some time to convince those idiots that I'm leaving because I feel tired. Really, I feel tired of their presence. I drive my car and I am sure I've taken the correct decision.  
How could I compel Gibbs to stay with me...if he loves somebody else? And that 'somebody else' is one who he usually sees almost 24 hours every day of the week.  
No. I can't! What kind of feeling this would be if I should constrain the one I love to share his life with me, knowing he never would be able to love me as I do him?  
No. I can be everything...but never a so barefaced liar...at least, when being out of office.

+Gibbs+

I spend the day washing and cleaning before heading downstairs to begin sanding the boat.

An hour later, I look up as I hear the door go and smile as I jog up the stairs "Thomas? That was quick!" with that I open the door before freezing at the sight of Tony. I shake myself out of my shock "DiNozzo? What are you doing here!?" I cock my head to one side "We aren't on call..."  
Tony looks at me with flinty green eyes "Who is Thomas!?"  
I bristle and growl at his tone "None of your business!" I glare at him "What do you want!?"  
He softens his look "I came round last night but your door was locked...since when do you lock your door?"  
I shrug and cross my arms in a defensive gesture "Tony...I locked it because I had company-"  
"Male company?"  
"Yes...Thomas stayed the night and he shall do again"  
He growls "So! You're Gay!?" he sneers at me "Do you like to take it up the arse 'Gunny'!?"  
I glare at the way his eyes blaze and gesture to the door "Get out!" as he refuses to move, I grab him by the collar and throw him out "Get out! And don't come back!" I lock the door behind him before sinking to the floor as tears blur my vision...  
I was so happy this morning...and now? Now my bubble has been burst

+Kort+

The Director was pretty relaxed, he signed the sick leave with a graceful gesture of his mouth. I always suspected he wanted me...It would have been funny to ride that inordinately fat arse and see how his insect face contracts of pain and diseased pleasure...(Stop with the enjoyment of your pervert side, Trent!)  
Now I must face Coulter and Cruz, my former 'Team Mates'. I enter our little office. Ray is there, watching football on his computer, eyes fixed on the screen, smoking and spitting on the floor.  
"Ray" I attempt to show my best kind face "Where is Ron?"  
"Hmm...Over there...Maybe in the Bathroom...?"

+Gibbs+

I sit there listening to the clock ticking by as tears role down my cheeks (Tony...he is homophobic? Since when!?) I stand and angrily pace the floor (Bastard! You have spent all these fucking years pinning after a man! A man who dislikes Gays!)

An hour passes and I growl as my temper hasn't calmed...only strengthened. I turn and run down the stairs to my boat before snapping up a sander and begin the calming motions as I force the anger into determination, sanding the rib until it is smooth as skin

+Kort+

I enter the Bathroom, where Coulter is smoking a cigarette and looking to his own reflection.  
He spots me by the mirror and smiles "I heard you are about to retire?"  
I don't approve nor deny the statement. I only hold his gaze in the mirror and speak "I need the folders"  
"Which folders?" he turns on his heels.  
I smile "Ronald, we knew each other very well" I surreptitiously grab my gun "I saw the folders in your desk" I pause "Operation Frankenstein, Ronald"  
"Ah, your great find, the spawn of your mind! I can't think of anything else but beer and methedrine" He shows his teeth "Better to try heroin with vodka...ah, Kort?"  
I should pull the trigger, I can do it easily from behind, even if he would be moving.

+Gibbs+

My arms hurt...and so does my back. I lean heavily against the now smooth ribs as sweat coats my body while I pant in I can breath, I slowly get to my feet and mount the stairs before stopping in the Kitchen for a coffee. A smile crosses my face as I drink the hot black liquid and once finished, I make myself another and head upstairs.  
I slowly walk into the Bathroom and sigh as I place my coffee on the side before stripping out of my sweat soaked clothes. I lower myself into the bath and switch on the tap while enjoying my cup of coffee as I wait for Thomas' return.

+Kort+

I smile "Ron, you always were a disgusting presence around me"  
"Same here, Kort" he sighs, heavily "Overall since you deliberately gave Jarek to the enemies"  
"He was an Assassin, a Butcher..."  
"Like you are, Kort: just like you all of us" I lower my voice even more, acquiring that tone that has been always capable of to scare the hell out everybody "The folders, Ron"  
He replies in the same way "Your life, Kort"  
He knows I want those infamous papers to destruct them: I don't want to leave any traces when I retire, this shall be disappear into the anonymity.  
He pounces oat me and I know he has a knife (I can sense knives by the metallic odour of their blades...maybe it is a gift...maybe, a malediction), but my gun is quicker. I shoot to his leg...no, this time I don't want to kill unnecessarily (why? I never was so judgmental before!)...however, he cuts my hand and I can see the flower of blood growing (he knows how and where to hurt: Jarek taught us how to cut the hand veins to provoke a long, a painful bloodletting) I smile, seeing how he contracts his body overt the injured leg, even if I feel myself falling to the floor...he approaches and I, knowing that my life is escaping from my veins and I am alone, in that hated building, where almost everybody despises me...Well, I have no option: with my already blurry vision, I shoot again, this time, directly in his heart. He falls heavily before me and I can't resist anymore.  
I lie down and wait for the end of my sole word escapes from my mouth, almost yet paralyzed "Gib...bs..."

+Gibbs+

I snap awake as a cold shiver runs through my spine and I frown as I note that I have fallen asleep in the bath (Great...just great!).  
I slowly get out and frown as my gut screams that I am needed somewhere by someone...only I have no idea where or who. Once dried and in clean clothes, I pace the floor as my gut refuses to settle (Who needs me? The Team?). I pick up the phone and call each one...and they all answer besides one, but I know  
that for once it isn't Tony in trouble. After that, I call my Dad...and end up chatting for half an hour before it suddenly comes to me! I quickly end the call and ring Thomas's mobile and nervously await his answer

+kort+

It's my destiny, my final destiny, to die upon these cold tiles, aloof of everything and everyone?  
I can't scream, I can't cry for any help. I only can see how life is going out my veins, dragging the remainings of my last strength, putting the ambiance in an obscure note of grey, dark grey, almost black...  
Your life always was a cursed dirty bitch, Trent, you can't be repentant, even if you would. You can't ask for any Mercy...in the supposed case that a supreme Mercy could watch over you at these very moments. You must shut your eyes and give yourself to the passage, Trent Kort, who knows if beyond everything you shall have a place to rest, finally and to forget all those forsaken remembrances?

+Gibbs+

After the third attempt of it ringing off into voicemail, I huff and jog downstairs to grab my shoes and car keys before jumping into my truck and head out to the CIA Headquarters.  
I park a distance away and scope the area...only to frown as I note the lack of security (Cocky Bastards! They probably think they don't need as much security!) with that I sneak in through the fire escape and curse the fact that I am in my jeans and red Marine Corps hood as I spot people in suits (Great! Stupid gut...you shoulda thought this through before sneaking inside!)  
I head deeper into the building, pausing and hiding in doorways as my Marine Sniper instincts take over...but I still as I hear movement coming from the ending of the hallway and I go to head back...only to still as I hear chatter (Shit! Think!). I quickly look around and sigh in relief as I notice the door leading to the Gents and I quickly enter, just in time as the hallway gets filled with CIA Agents.  
As I lean against the door and get my breath back...a noise makes me jump and I spin around, only to slip in something wet. I gaze down and cringe at the blood but as I look for the source...my heart stutters as I spot Kort in the corner, half conscious and bleeding

+Kort+

It must be a vision. I've envisioned things...many many times...GrandFather smiling in the mist of a deserted alley, throwing me the ball and screaming "Intercept it, Trent! Head off!"...the distant odour of the just baked pudding...The orange trees...The lemon grass...Everything in the single reflection of the rain was drawing on a leaf, on a stone...all that surrounded me was moisture and wind and loneliness and the presence of an incoming danger...but I used to focus in that vision...and everything became much more easy...until the vision fall down, shattered into pieces...I don't want HIM shattered into pieces, I don't want this vision of him getting broke...I don't want to lose this last instant of joy before to leave the World...Even the voice, if distant, sounds so real as nothing else could  
"Trent! Thomas! Thomas!"

+Gibbs+

I scramble forward and pull off my hood before wrapping it around the deep nasty wound on his arm "Thomas? Thomas please! Stay with me Thomas!" I tug him into my arms as I attempt to figure out a plan of action...but my brain seems to only focus on the fact I am going to lose him...I couldn't protect him...I broke my promise...  
I shake myself out of the disturbing truth and tighten my grip on his arm "NO! I won't let you DIE!" with that I attempt to focus on what needs doing. After checking to make sure the other man is dead, I check to see if there is any other wound on Kort other than the deep slash on his arm...but I fail to notice the door opening until it is too late and I feel the cold metal of a gun pressed against my lower back  
"Two for one...the cocky CIA Traitor...and the Silver Bastard who stole Ziva from me!"  
A growl resonates through my chest and I tense ready for action...and when he moves slightly to the left, I attack

+Kort+

I can't see very well, but I smell blood...my own and another's. Cruz...how could I have forgotten Cruz? The one who supposedly might 'handle me in Tel Aviv as soon as possible',...Knowing the meaning of the phrase, he was in charge of to kill me. Only that I was faster on that occasion.  
Now, he finds me off guard...I know Gibbs can kill him easily (why I didn't do it when I had that opportunity in Haffa? Ah, because you were getting old, Trent Kort! Now, no more, since you're dying)  
I hear a shot...I smell the gunpowder, I see the light, maybe the last light that shall be allowed to me in this World...GIBBS! In the frantic tussle, I think he himself shot the gun, hurting Cruz just in the very moment Cruz, crossing his free arm behind Gibbs' body, fired his gun injuring him in his back.  
Gibbs falls unconscious and I fear harmless...but I can already have a final retaliation scene...I depict the situation simultaneously while I move, while I sneak (I was, after all, the Cobra!) and in a supreme effort, armed by the strength that only despair and delirium are capable to give, I, myself, Trent Kort, launch my final shot, mortally wounding Ray Cruz with a sole bullet placed in between his eyes.

+Gibbs+

I grunt as I hit the floor and frown at the numbness that envelopes my body...I watch as Thomas launches himself at Ray and smirk as I watch him end the Bastards life before darkness clouds my vision.  
I feel a hand pressing my back and I wince as pain flares up my spine  
"Gibbs!? Stay awake Leroy!"  
As my eyes travel up to spot a jade one looking at me in fear...I try to move, only to cry out as my lower back screams as if on fire and once the pain lowers...I look up in fear "I-I can't feel my legs"

+Kort+

"Gibbs...I'm screwed...I'm losing my blood, drop to drop...Gibbs...but you...you came! No, no, you...you can't die! You can't...you c-" everything turns black.  
(E-End...it's the e-end!)

*NCIS*

A penetrating odour of Sulfuric acid awakes me...(Maybe everything was only a nightmare? It smells like Hospital...It IS effectively a hospital...Perhaps I got a fever, yes...a fever and everything was delirium...and-)  
"Welcome back, young man!" a strangely familiar voice says near to me.  
It's not only the voice, but's the accent...it's the way that man pronounces the words so clear, so- "Am I...a-are we...in the Motherland?" I ask. Perchance death was like a homecoming?  
"Oh, no, unfortunately we are not, my Dear Friend!" the amiable voice continues "Perhaps you may already remember me? I'm Doctor Mallard, from NCIS' permanent staff...Of course, call me Ducky"  
(The diamonds...La GRenouille...ARES...the plane...the-) I nod "I-I remember you...Doctor...I, dare to ask...if...Agent Gibbs i-is feeling well?"

+Gibbs+

I slowly awake and groan as the sterilized Scent of a Hospital penetrates my senses (Great...Hospital). A frown crosses my face as I notice I am on my front "Wha-?" movement catches my eye and my frown depends as I spot Doctor Pitt looking at me with an expression filled with sorrow  
"Agent Gibbs...how are you feeling?"  
I roll my eyes as I try to shift...but huff as my legs refuse to work "Like I was shot..."  
He gives me a sad smile before moving closer "I just need to run some tests"  
I shrug and allow him to do so as I relax but frown in confusion as the touch stops when he reaches below my waist and I turn to look over my shoulder...only to still as I see him touching my leg...but I can't feel it "I-I...?"  
He sighs as he stops touching me and walks around the bed, to move to look me in the eyes "I'm Sorry Jethro...but the bullet has ended up lodged against your spinal cord" he places a hand ontop of my shoulder and I blink away the tears that form as he continues "I'm afraid you shall never walk again"

+Kort+

I patiently allow the Doctor examine me, he carefully manages my injured arm, where I can see the many stitches. I can also feel a pinch, in my other arm, where the needle that transports blood from a device to my veins.  
"You had a very big loss of blood, we had to transfuse you and fortunately we had your blood type stored in our blood bank"  
"So...nobody was needed to donate?"  
"No, but we shall replenish what we used, I'm afraid...Do you have any acquaintances here, my friend?"  
I shake my head "No, nor I ever have needed, only one I could count on is also injured"  
He raises an eyebrow and look inquisitively at me with his pale blue eyes, that glow behind his glasses "Are you speaking about Agent Gibbs, my dear Friend?"  
"Yes, the very same"  
He sighs "I'm afraid he isn't in a good condition just at the moment...He is recovering from a bullet injury..."  
I get agitated and grab his arm, anxiously looking into those gentle blue eyes "How serious?"  
He pauses, swallows his own grief and replies, in a low, maybe gloomy voice "He suffered an injury just in the middle of his spinal cord..." he pauses, rubbing his forehead, with authentic concern "Perhaps he shan't be able to walk again..."

+Gibbs+

The words ring around in my head and I feel myself nodding, dismissing the Doctor, as I place my head onto my pillow (Bullet lodged against spinal cord...never walk again...wheelchair). Tears fall down my cheek as I hug my pillow as I cry myself to sleep.

I awake with a start as a hand touches my face and I slit my eyes in anger as I look into the forest green eyes of Tony  
"Hey Gibbs..."  
I move back, pulling away from his touch "Fuck off!"  
His eyes widen in shock at my out burst and I watch as he runs a hand through his hair in a nervous gesture "I...I want to apologise for what I said when we last spoke!" he gives me a sad smile "I never meant to turn nasty...I...I was just surprised and...and jealous that you-" he sighs and crosses his arms in a defensive gesture (Copying what I had done) before stating "I've loved you Jethro...and I want to be with you"  
I gaze into his green eyes and sigh as I realise I only want to see a jade one "No..."  
His eyes widen in shock before slitting in anger "No!? You are turning me down!? Me!? For that...that one eyed teabag!?" he stands and glares down at me "What has that...that creep got that I don't!?"  
I glare up at him and smirk "My respect"

+Kort+

"Thus, while you were speaking to your fellow operative, Ronald Coulter, he drew his gun and shot you?"  
"No, this isn't what I said, Agent Fornell" I rub my forehead with my aching arm, dragging the catheter with the blood practically away.  
"Hey, take care! You are still been transfused!"  
I glare at him "I know very well what I do, Agent Fornell and please, sit down and let me explain how the events took place...before the sedative these Doctors gave to me shall begin to raise its effect"  
"I'm all ears, Kort" he says, sitting astride the white metallic chair.  
"I asked him for something that belonged to me (and I warn you that the item isn't of your concern). He refused. I insisted and pounced at me, hurting my arm with his knife"  
"Were there any personal issues between you both? Like..." he waves his hands "-some kind of enmity?"  
I laugh, I can't do anything else but laugh "Everybody hated me there, in Langley, if it's this what you ask for, Agent Fornell" I pause "Now, let me question you...how is Agent Gibbs doing?"  
He avoids my gaze.  
"The truth, Fornell" I was not the best CIA Interrogator for tone of my voice must be something so fearsome, that I have seen men like Fornell (faded, experienced, old foxes, as we say )watering their trousers...

+Gibbs+

I glare at the male Nurse who checks me over and growl as he talks on his mobile while he checks over the wound on my back and yelp as is prods and pokes me there  
"You feel that?"  
I growl and bare my teeth "Yes!"  
He shrugs and continues to poke me there, over and over again. At the six or seventh poke, I snap and push on the side of the bed, flipping myself over and grab him by the neck "Yes! I can FUCKING feel that!"  
His eyes widen in fear and he struggles against my iron grip as he tries to breath.  
A voice tries to get through to me, but I ignore it as I tighten my grip and watch his lips turn blue...only to let go with a yelp as a needle is stabbed into my arm and I quickly become drowzy (Shit...stupid sedatives)

+Kort+

He harrumphs, and says, in a softened voice "He is in a good general state...but...I've heard-"  
"But...what? What have you heard, Agent Fornell?" I grab his arm agitating it furiously, until the needle with the vital liquid falls out of my vein. I see he pushes the ring bell to call for a Nurse, still holding my desperate gaze  
"His legs...He has been shot in the spinal chord, I've heard so...He probably shan't be able to walk again..."  
"Probably! Probably?!" I raise my body as much as I can and grabs him by his neck "I can kill with one hand, Fornell, as I can shoot accurately with only an eye! How is that about 'probably'?!"  
"Nurse, Nurse, over here!" he screams, turning practically purple when my grip puts even more pressure on his throat.  
A tall, huge, heavy black male Nurse comes out and ties me to the bed...like an animal...as a what I am.  
Rubbing his reddened neck, Fornell states(and his voice conveys not only the ache my action has caused, but an authentic sense of grief) "He shan't be able to walk again" he holds my look for an instant, then, he adds, really angry, really sad, really... "Period!" And then he rapidly leaves the room.

+Gibbs+

My head pounds and I feel sick...I go to lift my arm and panic as it refuses to move (Shit! What happened!?).  
I force my eyes open and glance down to find that I have been placed on my side with my hands restrained to the bed. A growl escapes my throat as I look around before leaning forward and removing the plastic knife from the tray of food. I snap the plastic and smirk as I set to work freeing myself from my restraints.  
Once free, I rub at my wrists before removing my IV lines and tug at my useless legs until I have them dangling off the bed. I reach out for the wheelchair...but yelp as I slip off the bed and onto the floor with a crash.  
After making sure that the noise has gone unnoticed, I drag myself up and into the chair with a great deal of effort. Once I am settled I wheel myself out and head to find Thomas

+Kort+

I awake again, this time tied up to my bed (these blokes remind me of Cobbs in many ways!). I need to get myself out of here, the transfusion seems to have ended...finally.  
I feel dizzy, but I could easily get out of here. I still have a catheter in my arm and my useless one (the right arm, ha! Fortunately, I'm ambidextrous with the gun and the blades. I won't fall down again without a fight!) is hanging heavily, aching, still aching (That son of a bitch cut in the best Jarek's style, all over the vein, in a longitudinal sense...What a paradox! I almost died of a technique I have employed so many times that I have lost count!)  
I pull out the needle. A bit more effort and I am free...so...done! I really struggle to stand on my feet, but I know how to seek support: the bedposts, the bedrails...even the wall serves to this purpose. I am half naked, wearing only this awful Hospital gown...I need to cover myself...but...where are my clothes?

+Gibbs+

I avoid the Doctors and Nurses as I navigate the corridoors and sigh as I spot Tobias (Great!).  
I quickly hide as he walks past and smirk as he goes by without noticing me! Once the coast is clear I continue rolling the wheelchair up to the desk.  
After checking around, I quickly skim the list of patients until I find his room number and head off.  
I finally make it unseen to his room and silently open the door, watching as he leans on the bedrail while cradling his right arm before wheeling myself in "Thomas?"

+Kort+

He came! I went to approach his chair, I can't stand myself, I embrace him, I kiss him, I want to devour him...Yes, yes, I am a beast! I always have been! I don't want to harm him in anyway...but I need to devour him, but I restrain my passion, my desire, my desperation, my pain...  
"Easy, easy, Thomas! You're still weak!"  
I don't care. I kneel, I embrace his dead legs, I caress them frantically...And, for the first time in many many years...I allow myself to cry. It feels like my Soul is being cleansed...  
"Let's get out of here, Thomas...I dislike Hospitals...I-"  
"Yes, yes...I shall be your legs, as you shall be my missing eye...We shall complete each other, Leroy...I swear! I swear...nobody shall injure you...us...anymore!" I stand up, painfully, but with joy at aiming our escape...the sooner the better. I grabs some clothes from a chair and put on a jacket, The arm aches like a bitch, but I don't care. We must get free! And it is just then, when we can hear a very well known annoying high pitched voice timbre asking  
"Where do you think you're going, the both of you?" In front of us, angry, firing like hell by his penetrating green eyes, it stands: Anthony DiNozzo Junior.

+Gibbs+

I growl as Tony blocks our exit "Get out of our way, DiNozzo!"  
He stands his ground and slits his green eyes "You aren't leaving! I won't allow it!"  
I shrug and wheel my chair right up to him "I'm discharging myself and so is Thomas...I'm going to call Vance and request that I be put on Retirement, before living my life with Kort" a smile crosses my face as I look over my shoulder at him "He shall be my legs and I shall me his eye...together we shall complete one another"  
Tony growls and glares down at me "NO! I love you! I want you!" with that he grabs me and takes my lips in a desperate kiss.  
I grimace and refuse to open up under the onslaught as he attempts to open my mouth. My eyes slit and its the only warning I give before I pull my fist back and deck him across his face, so he ends up flat on his back looking at me in shock "No Tony...I don't want you, I love Thomas Trent Kort"

+Kort+

We need to escape this madness.  
The poor idiot lies down on the floor, his nose is bleeding. A good revenge of what he did to me many years ago. Now, I must be cautious. I need to play this game until the end. I like Gibbs...I have fallen for him and I like his company, I feel protected (since when do you need any kind of external protection, you beast?)...I feel cared for.  
His honesty shall be my personal shield when everything shall blow up...if it is true that a superior power has the capability of to judge us based upon what we have done on Earth...I want a shield of honour around my infamous depraved Soul...it shall help

+Gibbs+

I wheel myself out and head in the general direction of the exit, while making sure Kort is sticking close. A smile crosses my face as I spot the door and pick up speed...only to stop with a sharp turn, which causes my to fall out of the chair, as Ziva and Tim block my escape.  
I grunt as I hit the floor and growl as Tim goes to help me (Stupid kid). He backs off and I huff as I drag myself over to the stupid chair, accepting Thomas's help as I get back into the blasted thing.

+Kort+

The kid asked where are we going now...He shows a real concern...The former Mossad Agent almost fulminated me with her cold glare.  
"Where do you think you're going with our Boss? And where is DiNozzo?"  
"That idiotic so called Senior Field Agent has received what he deserved! Please, can you let us go by moving out of our way?"  
She lowers her weapon, murmuring a curse in her native tongue.  
I really would have liked to break their necks, but this would have meant to lose Gibbs' already feeble confidence. I must play the plot until the end...

+Gibbs+

A huff escapes my chest as I wheel myself inbetween Thomas and Ziva before stating "I am leaving here...and NCIS-" I hold up my hand to stop the arguments and continue "I am going to call Vance and out in for Retirement" with that I roll my chair up to them "Now...please move aside"  
They glance at one another before sighing and letting us through.  
I nod and wheel myself out and shiver at the cold breeze that blows through the thin Hospital gown. I turn to Thomas and take his hand "Shall we head to your room? And collect your stuff before heading back to my house?"

+Kort+

No way I shall carry him to my room! We need to escape the City now, without any further delay. We shall be far away in two or three hours...Otherwise everything can go to hell...I'm tired of to see things going to hell...I'm wondering why in the cursed Earth this man didn't break my neck when he was on time?

+Gibbs+

I gasp in shock as he takes the handles to my chair and push me in the direction of the road. I frown and turn to look at him "Where are we going?"  
He ignores me and picks up speed.  
I slit my eyes in anger and grab the wheels, forcing him to stop and tug him to face me "Kort...where are we going!?"

+Kort+

"Out of town" I attempt to show one of my infamous half smiles.  
He looks doubtful...as if he doesn't want to go away with me?  
"See, Gibbs: if you don't want to go, I can leave you at your house...But I assure you that it shall be better if you depart with me"  
"Why, Kort?"  
I don't answer and he insists  
"Why?"

+Gibbs+

I sigh as he refuses to give me an answer and I shake my head as I tug him into a hug "Are you sure that we have to leave?"  
He nods but tenses as he awaits my answer.  
I go quiet and think...(Can you leave? Just walk away?) a smile crosses my face and I pull back "Lets stop at my place and get some...things...and then I'll go wherever you want too" with that I kiss his startled face and smirk as he melts into the gentle kiss, I pull back with a smile "I love you, Thomas Trent Kort"

+Kort+

Poor man, so honest, so immaculate...So proud of his decency...Poor man...Maybe it is was a real mistake to have opened up about my Past to make him fall really bad for me...But it was my job and it always had been, women...men...everybody fell for me, only to realise they were being deceived. I am like Satan: I am the Father of lies...but I can't go through with it! I have to protect him!

+Gibbs+

I watch as his eyes shutter close and I frown as I go to ask him why...only for him to hail us a cab and push me inside.  
I gaze out of the window as he asks the Driver to take us back to mine.  
I look up as the taxi stop and once the ramp is down, I wheel myself out and head to my Garage as Kort follows behind. Once inside I pause at the sight of the stairs "Fuck..."

+Kort+

I must go upstairs now. Cursed house! I ran upstairs and grab whatever I can find: clothes, old couple of books, his photo of Langer and an album with his Family photographs. I think this shall suffice. I 'Casually' forget to grab his gun...


	2. Chapter 2

+Gibbs+

He rushes past me and I frown as I wheel my chair over to him "Thomas? Thomas...what is it?" a huff escapes my chest as he chucks my clothes and stuff into a case, my frown deepening as I note that my Sig is not there "Thomas, I shall need my gun"  
He looks up at me and shakes his head "You won't need it" with that he zips up the case and rushes out to chuck it into my truck.  
My eyes slit in annoyance as he rushes back in, to attempt to wheel me out, but I grip the wheel and refuse to move "Not without my Sig and woodworking tools!" I glance up as he snarls and stomps off to the Basement. I shake my head and wheel up to the door and glance down "They were a gift from my Dad...I want them hem as a remembrance" I wheel myself backwards as he stomps up and I nod as I spot the set within his hands "Thank-You...now, my Sig and then we can go to wherever you feel that we shall be safe"

+Kort+

He insists, he keeps insisting...But I can't put him into a situation of danger again. I don't have the gust to do that! I have blatantly contradicted the Orders I once received...I don't want him put unnecessarily in front of any kind of peril. I know my former Bosses shall want the files back (Vance's, Doctor Mallard's, Mike Franks'...Gibbs'!) and I can't allow that to happen. They even menaced to send me into a Black Operation with no return! As they planned to send him. We are two stinging subjects for both Agencies...they think we should disappear. Then, let's go with the flow...(I press unconsciously my Luger 45, my favourite weapon, that I have hidden inside my left boot). "As you wish" I finally say "Let me be the one carrying your gun in my waistband"

+Gibbs+

I slit my eyes...but nod "Ok then, but I will find out what you are hiding from me"  
He nods and heads upstairs, before returning with my weapon in his hands "See"  
A chuckle escapes my chest and I wheel myself out and up to the passenger side, playfully slapping his hands away as I open the door before dragging myself into the seat. I pant and wipe the sweat from my brow as I turn to give him a smile "I...I can do it my...myself"

+Kort+

No way I shall let him do things alone. I need him needing me...It must be strange, retorted...and somewhat sick, I know (But what can one expect from one like me? It must be wicked!) but I need to do everything for him. "I shall drive" I say.  
"Where shall we go?"  
I have no response for his question. I have no idea of where we could go...all the safehouses are being monitored constantly (All along and across the Country...even all along and across the world!). I keep silent and he lights two cigarettes, offering one of them to me (It has his taste...a bittersweet mixture of bourbon, anguish and coffee) while I drive perhaps too slowly (If I drive fast someone could have suspicions) greeting with my hand an old lady who is walking her dog.  
"Mrs Green" he says "Thank God she didn't see us running frantically, or she would sparkle the gossip all over the quarter!"  
I smirk, because the old lady reminds me of my own Grandmother, Nanny Fisher, who was exactly like this. "Any idea of where to go?" I ask, while stopping the car for an instant and after a long pause in which we only smoked in silence.  
Spotting that we are in the boundaries of the County, he points to the West "Take that route, it goes to somewhere I need to visit"  
I do as he suggests and only when we are settled in our path again, I ask "Where does this road lead us?"  
He simply replies "StillWater"

+Gibbs+

I ignore his look of shock and smile as we enter the quiet, secluded Village and I hold up my hand in order to make him stop "Here"  
He glances at the building and sighs "I guess we should head in and stock up"  
I nod and open the door...before catching myself (Stupid idiot! Your legs don't work!) with that I turn to face him "Thomas? Can you get my chair for me?"

+Kort+

I get out the car and go to grab the folding wheelchair from the back of the truck. I help him to sit down and he wheels himself to the door, that he resolutely opens, with a musical bell ringing.  
"Hiya, Dad!"  
I freeze! His father! (I knew he had his Father still alive: I had been informed about that during the Reynoso case, that we followed from very that it was Cruz the one in charge and I could be there to protect him and his old man myself...I was being tortured by some Colombian Cartel's Lord just at that time). I follow him and look at the elder whose steps, still firm and secure, come to the encounter of his injured unique Son.

+Gibbs+

My eyes water as I glance up at my Dad and I let out a chuckle as he wraps his arms around me in a tight hug  
"Leroy! Leroy...oh, Son! What happened?"  
I nuzzle his chest and breath in the sweet Scent of home, before pulling away "I got shot and now I am in a wheelchair" I hold up a hand as he goes to speak "I don't mind it Dad...I am fine" with that I wheel myself to the side "Dad...I want you to meet my...my Partner, Thomas Trent Kort"

+Kort+

I lean to greet the elder and take the hand he extends to me.  
He looks at me, somewhat confused and asks "Are you British, young man?"  
Amused when being called 'young man' at my forty six, I reply, recognising the image with the big fish in the picture Jethro had on his hearth "Indeed, Sir...Mr Gibbs"  
"Please, it's Jack"  
I smile "Indeed, Jack..."  
"From London?"  
I nod  
"And your name is Trent Thomas?"  
I suddenly remember. This is the same man who, when younger, was beside Uncle Trent in that old photograph from the Second world War! "Thomas Trent, Mr Gi-ehm-Jack...But I usually go for my middle name"  
He thinks for a second, then states, with a somewhat nostalgic tone "I had a friend during the War. We were Pilots and I can say I had two friends, one of them among the enemy"  
"Yes, Walter Beck, he passe away one years ago" Jethro intervenes.  
"Well, I also was very intimate with a young British Lieutenant in the RAF...Lieutenant Fisher, Trent Fisher, I know the name is maybe very common in England, but..."  
I look firmly into those pale blue eyes, so look alike Jethro's "Not at all. Yes...Lt, Trent Fisher was my Uncle...my Mother's younger Brother" (And one of the only two people who took me in some consideration, I should add, but I don't).

+Gibbs+

I chuckle as my Dad tugs Thomas into a hug and shake my head at the startled look on my Lovers face before wheeling myself up and tugging at my Dads shirt "Leave him be Dad! It isn't just a social visit"  
Jack pulls back and frowns "You in trouble Son?"  
I glance to Kort and sigh at the tense posture "Yeah Dad...I need to disappear for a good amount of time" I take Korts hand "Thomas and myself need to go into hiding and we-"  
Jack shakes his head and jogs out back before returning with a map "This is the only map in existence...but there's a small cabin up in the mountains to the North, take it and stay safe" with that he passses me the documents before rummaging through the shelves "I shall pack some supplies for you...but be careful up there and it it quite a trek and..."  
I nod "And its not easy with a wheelchair..."

+Kort+

The old man looks at me, inquisitively, while packing some food, beer and clothes, without forgetting the sempiternal bottle of Jack Daniels "What became of Trent?" he asks, with a very low voice.  
I sigh "He died"  
The man closes his now pale blue eyes, those eyes that must have been, without any doubts, so vivacious as I could foresee from the old photographs "How?"  
I haven't the guts to reply 'In Prison, beaten to death...and for a crime he didn't commit at all' "An accident" I answer, instead.  
"I'm so Sorry...and you have no idea how grievous it's for me...We had a great time together...When I saw your eye, they automatically reminded me of him"  
I nod. I am good at hiding my feelings, thoughts, facts...I'm very good. I have no stomach to inform him that the crime my Uncle was blamed for had been committed by his already underage Nephew...that crime was the stabbing of my own Father...

+Gibbs+

I spot the shadow of guilt within the jade eye (I wonder what really happened?) but shake myself out of it as I call Jack over "Dad? You have some coffee we can take? And...er 'Tea' for Thomas?"  
Jack looks up and smiles "Sure Son...I won't be long"  
I wait untill he has gone before wheeling myself over and taking Korts hands "Hey...look at me" as his jade eye looks into my ice blues, I smile and tug him down for a sweet kiss...chuckling and pushing softly at his chest as he attempts to deepen it "Not here" with that I lift my hand and stroke his cheek "I love you"  
He returns my smile and goes to reply...only to stiffen as the door to the Store opens.  
I quickly grab his arm and shake my head "No" before turning to see who has entered...only to curse under my breath as I come face to face with Chuck

+Kort+

What kind of coarse bloke is this one? He looks like a rich kid (A grown rich kid, indeed), but I can see that his manners are everything but polite.  
"You back, queer?" he asks, spitting on the floor.  
"Don't do that! And don't dare to pronounce that word in my presence!" I state, putting myself between the two men.  
"And who in the fuckin' hell are you, Brit one eyed teabag?"  
I pounce on him (I sense he knows I have a weapon!) and he recoils, while Gibbs extends his arm in a desperate attempt to separate us. "A proof that the loud mouths are only an indicative of cowardice" I say, pointing my Luger at him  
"Ha! A Brit outcast with a German gun?" he asks, mockingly.  
But there isn't anyone already born who could compete with my use of sarcasm "An American boy with his neck reddened by his eternally cheap plaid shirt" I say, smiling with all my teeth and I continue "I suggest you to retire...Sir...You have burst into a private conversation"  
The tension can be cut by a knife. Suddenly, a commanding voice states, behind our backs "STOP THIS NONSENSE! Stop!" It's Jack Gibbs, it's the old Warrior form the historical flying squad "Chuck...how many times have I said to you, that you can't enter the Store as if we were in the old days? When your name was the law and nobody dared to contradict your will! Times have changed, my Son is a Federal Agent,and his friend here is...is my old Comrade's Nephew, the relative of someone who was a hero long before you were born!"

+Gibbs+

A sigh escapes my chest as Chuck leaves and I lower my head in shame "It was a mistake...I should have never come here" I look up as a hand touches my shoulder and I smile while looking up into the blues which mirror my own  
"Leroy, I don't care much about Chuck and his homophobic attitudes!" he tugs me closer "All that matters is that you accept yourself for who you are...and that you have found another who loves you as you love them" with that he passes me two themos "The blue one has coffee and the green one tea, also I have placed some of each into here for ya"  
I smile and tug him down before reaching up and kissing his cheek "Thank-You Dad"  
"No problem, Leroy" he turns to Thomas and shakes his hand before tugging him into a hug "Look after Leroy for me Trent"  
I watch from my seated position and frown as I spot the jade eye darken in fear  
"I will do, Jack...I shall protect him until my dying breath" with that he extracts himself and takes the handles to my wheelchair.  
I take the parcel and wave goodbye as Thomas wheels me out and back to the truck. I pass him the supplies before dragging myself back into the passenger seat, slapping his hands away as I make myself comfortable. A soft smile crosses my face as I watch Thomas place my chair in the back before getting into the drivers side. I flatten out the map "North it is"

+Kort+

I must admit that the landscape is reminds me a bit of the Scottish mountains, it has a very similar magic. There are pine forests on either side of the road...Now the landscape is more look alike Germany, middle Europe! I open the little window, so we can breathe in the perfumed air. "Your old Comrade seemed very angry at you, Leroy...May I know why?"  
He sighs "It's a long long history...It involves my deceased Wife and one of Chuck 's friends, named Rodney, who was interested in Shannon. He cornered me more than once and both proceeded to beat me with the intention of to disfigure my face! They thought that Shannon, my poor deceased Wife, would be disappointed with me and would leave me immediately" He chuckles, bitterly amused "They didn't have an idea about who Shannon really was!"  
I look distractedly at him, while lighting a cigarette "She must have been a great woman...a great woman, indeed, for to be able to keep you settled down, Leroy"  
"She was, effectively, Thomas...she was!"  
We keep silence for a while. I am sure he is hiding more about that so disagreeable individual named Chuck and I ask "And was that all?"  
"Excuse me?"  
"I mean, those blokes...that was all with them?"  
He cringes, like overwhelmed by a disgusting remembrance "No, there is something more" he states, with a thin voice.  
"Open up, please...we stated that there shan't be secrets between us...I guess" I say, softening the tense, thick silence.  
He harrumphs "W-When my Dad saw us quarreling...he came out with the old familiar rifle, an old Remington that perhaps nobody had fired since...fifty years ago, during the big miners' strikes. He shot in the air...they escaped. That night, that very night...while I was coming back from the garage to enter the house...they...they ambushed me...and...gagged me, after I hit my head. I lost consciousness and when I woke up, I was tied to a dirty cot and..."  
I feel my bile, my blood...even my milk...rising to my head.

+Gibbs+

I go quiet and glance out of the window "J-Just as Chuck...as he penetrated me...Shannon burst in" I lift a shaky hand and run it through my silver hair "S-She saved me...and the very next day we left Stillwater"  
He returns the silence.  
My eyes glisten with unshed tears as I gaze at my hands "I'm Sorry..."

+Kort+

My heart is breaking into pieces. I attempt to disguise my horrendous pain, a pain that I know very well...the pain that is the result of the subjugated, affronted, overwhelmed innocence "Nothing to be sorry about" I state, calmly, while stopping the car and placing it at one side of the road.  
Then, I let my hands cup his face, that beautiful face where the humidity of the most bitter tears shines like the saddest fire and kiss his forehead "You are a Soul that remained pure amidst the one thousand dirty nauseating middens that surrounded your life" (I can't say the same about myself...)

+Gibbs+

I close my eyes and let the tear slip down my cheek "Thank-You" with that I lift my hand and wipe away the tears "I should have been stronger..."  
He shakes his head and kisses my cheeks before taking my lips into a soft kiss.  
I melt into the move and let out a groan as I feel him straddle my lap  
"You are the strongest person I know"  
My cheeks heat up and I look at him through my lashes "You are the only person that knows what happened...the only other was Brent...but he is dead now"

+Kort+

We should move on...but I can't wait to kiss him again. I deepen the kiss...I enjoy teasing him with my tongue, but he suddenly stops me.  
"Please...I-I don't know if I shall be able to satisfy you...since I'm paralyzed from my waist below...I'm afraid I don't know if I can have an erection...I-I feel useless and-"  
"Not at all" I cut, dryly and go with my hand to stroke softly his groin, asking "What do you feel? How do you feel?"  
He moans...  
"Can you see? You are becoming hard...and your inner sense of pleasure is still in place! Maybe you can't perceive when you shall be full hard...or when the orgasm will approach...but, when it shall happen, the enjoyment will be there...as always it has been"  
He looks at me, touched "How can you be so kind? How come nobody else discovered your beautiful Soul? How could this be possible?"  
I look into his two azure gems "Perchance it was written that I should be waiting for you"

+Gibbs+

My cheeks heat up and I give him a shy smile "You're a poet at heart" with that I give him a shy smile before gently pushing him off my lap "When we get to the Cabin...you can make love to me there"  
He lets out a deep huff and nods as he gets back into his seat before taking my hand and kissing it.  
I smile...but gaze down at my now hard cock "It's odd...I can see its hard, but I can't feel it..." I look up as he tugs his hand free and gasp in arousal as he cups me  
"Well...I take it you can feel that then?"  
A scowl crosses my face and I playfully slap his hand away. "Yes! Well, at least we have that sorted" with that I take his hand and watch the scenery go past "According to the map...we should be there soon"

+Kort+

I drive, slightly lighthearted (Maybe life isn't totally a bitch, even for one like you, Thomas Trent Kort). The road narrows on our way to the top. I put the radio on and ask "Would you mind some music?"  
"No, of course, not! Play it, please!"  
I search for some broadcasting station that could be listened too even from the high point where we are now. I find one. A classical broadcast and I recall those times when I was begging at the gates of the theatre...and, later, when I played during an Undercover Operation, pretending to be a distinguished musical critic...in the same theatre. I can't avoid a soft laughter  
"What are you thinking about?" he asks, somewhat amused by my laugh, that he didn't already know.  
"Paradoxes of the past" I reply, while the melody of Rachmaninov's 'Vocalise' can be heard like in the distance.

+Gibbs+

I smile at the way his face softens at the sound of the beautiful music and decide to let him have his peace while I drink my coffee.

An hour later, we arrive at the Cabin...and my heart sinks as I note the steep step to the entrance "My chair won't be able to get in or out..."  
Thomas frowns and then shrugs "I shall carry you"  
I roll my eyes before growling "I weigh more than you Kort! You can't bare all my weight! And I can't help because my legs don't fucking work!" I take a deep breath and shake off his hand "Get me my chair...I want to get out of here!"  
He gives me a hurt look and nods before leaving the truck.  
A huff escapes my chest as I ran a hand through my hair (Shit! Don't take it out on him! He is trying his best). I wait until he has my chair set and sigh as he steps back, out of reach of my hand "Thomas...I didn't mean to get angry! I just...I feel useless! How can you stand to be near a cripple!? How can you possibly love me anymore...I can't protect you or provide for you in anyway shape or form!" I don't care that tears are falling down my cheeks and that my vision blurs...all that matters is that he can't love me anymore...

+Kort+

How can I do to make him know that I love him in spite of anything? I never was good when it came to express my feelings...I mean, the true ones, not the ones I invented or pretended one hundred...one thousand times...I light a cigarette and smoke, silently, watching the trees that come and go, compelled by the wind, who fights to gather them in a definitive embrace. I compare the wind with the force of my Soul. I always was like the wind: blowing, running, flying...gathering what couldn't be together anymore...and passing passing away.  
He is crying and his tears are like liquid fire falling down my jaded Soul.  
I can't cry with my remaining eye...but nobody knows that I live crying on the inside.  
I turn on my heels and watch how he embraces his own body, shaken by his sobs, murmuring the names of his lost beloved ones, begging them to come and carry him away with them, out of this treacherous world...out of this crappy life...forever. I sense his internal desire to not live anymore. And I can't allow this! I run and embrace his body, rising it from the confinements of the chair, with all my strength, with all my skills, with all my spirit and my Soul and my desperate blood. "Never think of that again!" I scream and I know that my voice is absolutely scary when I yell this way "NEVER, GUNNERY SERGEANT LEROY JETHRO GIBBS! Are You a Marine? Still a Marine, or a damned queer, as that stupid piece of crap, that wanker, that...son of a bitch...assured before?"  
He reacts and looks at me, seeing that I'm holding him in my arms, grabbing his waist with my hands, that aren't enormous and lethally strong just for nothing.  
I pull him like a dead weight on my shoulder,and begin to climb the ladders embedded in the stone. The ascent is painful...I can hear the crack in my joints...this shall ache like a bitch later...but...what matters! I need to carry him to the security of the refuge...to the shelter that my already deadly tired arms want to make for him. Only for him!

+Gibbs+

I sniff and once he lowers me onto the bed, I look away in shame "I'm Sorry for how I reacted and for my outburst..."  
He leans down and takes my lips in a desperate kiss "I will not lose you...everyone I have...have loved has either left me or died! I will not allow you to be either!"  
I blink away my tears and nod "Ok..."  
His jade eyes softens and he kisses my nose before getting back up, wincing as his back cracks, and heads back outside to bring in all our stuff...starting with my chair.  
A smile crosses my face as I drag myself into it and begin to explore each room, happy to find that I am able to enter every room unaided...but I would be needing help to get outside (Maybe you can create a ramp?). I shrug at the thought and wheel myself up to the door as I watch my Lover unpack our supplies from my truck.

+Kort+

Let's see...the clothes, the tablecloth, the serviettes, towels, blankets...Mr Gibbs-er-Jack, has thought of everything! As I've stated, I can't afford to lose him...I can't afford to lose anyone else. The ones who meant something to me were not too many, really...to be honest, there were only three or four people...maybe five, if I must count my little Brother. Hiram's last look on me has haunted me all my life: that bitter sweetness that reunited a thankful gaze with an interrogation (Why me, Brother? I'm only a child!)...His mind got lost in that eternal smile and so he passed away, in my arms, silently, humbly as he had lived...I have no idea why the inventory of supplies Jack has prepared for us gives me back this remembrance. Maybe, it is only the distant odour of Home. I gather the food and clothing and go inside. A storm is coming and we shall have rain...

(Evening)

+Gibbs+

A groan escapes my chest as I enjoy the chicken salad and I glance up at the sound of an answering groan. I frown as I watch him watching me and my mouth goes dry as my arousal spikes at the sight out the darken jade eye. I give him a shy smile as I slowly eat the rest of the wonderful food he has prepared for me (I never knew he could cook!).  
Movement catches my eye and I watch as Thomas gets up and stalks over to me...before pushing my chair back and straddling my lap. I glance up into his almost black eye and smile as I take his lips into a soft kiss "I love you"

+Kort+

He is a gift that arrived just on time, when my trust in life was almost so extinguished as my faith in mankind (Long time gone!). I want to ride him, I want to Submit to his beauty and to his pride and honesty: I need to subdue my misery before his pure, untouched Soul. I slowly open my trousers...It feels so trivial, but I need to denude my body as I want to do with my Soul. For the first time, the undressing shall be total, complete,absolute: not only to remain in skin and flesh, but also to stand totally naked, unmasked...as the day when I was born. Perchance my birth wasn't so useless; perchance that cursed day and the doomed life I had were only like the preparation, like the dress rehearsal for this very moment.  
I take off my trousers, carefully, rising first one leg and then, the other, without abandon my overcoming position upon his lap. Then, I open his fly, his cock is there...still soft...I know I shall need to work on it. I begin to stroke the soft foreskin, a deep pink tender piece of silk and I am rewarded by a moan. How I love him when he's moaning! How I love that beautiful mouth when it opens to let escape the sound that I am eliciting from him!  
"Nothing happens..." he says, "I can feel the need, but...not my cock in your hand...It's the need what makes me moan...and the sight of you, the sight of your long fingers wrapping my shaft..."  
I tranquilize him "Don't worry...If it is the sight what arises you, please, don't worry and concentrate in this...Look at my hands...look at my fingers...Look how they slide now, bathing in the precious reward they have torn...your precum..."

+Gibbs+

I flex my back growling in annoyance as I can't thrust into his hand...but look up in wonder "I...I can feel it! I can feel the pleasure in my groin"  
He smiles at me and leans down to kiss me before removing his hand.  
A whimper escapes my throat and I look down as my cock twitches "Don't stop..."  
Thomas just smiles at me before straddling my eyes widen and I let out a groan as he sinks down into my cock...and I can feel his muscles squeezing and giving me pleasure, my back jerks at the urge to thrust and I snarl in anger...and desperation as my hips refuse to move

+Kort+

I decide to move slowly and to ease his inquietude thoughts "Don't be afraid...let the flood carry you...Let me do all the work! As you can see, I have no need for any kind of preparation, your cock slides inside me so naturally...so...logically" Yes, it is logical. I couldn't have chosen anyone else to begin again. I move up and down, slowly, very slowly. I don't want this intercourse having an end! I want to rest eternally so, moving upon his cock, letting it go further and further inside me...bottoming...reaching to my core. It's overwhelming and I allow myself to demonstrate my anxiety. I show him the pleasure depicted in my face for the first time. I have no shame...I moan and I even whimper! I know how to insert the extreme of his cock just on my prostate. I want his cock penetrating my prostate, devouring it, smashing it...I want this man cutting me into pieces of pleasure.

+Gibbs+

I wrap my arms around his waist and growl and grunt as he fucks himself on my cock. I watch as his barriers fall down and my breath catches as I spot the love he has kept hidden, shining through his unique jade eye. A smile crosses my face as I tug him closer and take his lips into a deep, loving kiss...smirking as I swallow his whimpers of delight.  
He moves faster, picking up speed as he thrusts his cock against the rough fabric of my shirt.  
I pull back slightly and smile as I wrap my fingers around the hard flesh, using every technique I have learnt over the years to give him the utmost pleasure...as I love him, as much as I loved Brent

+Kort+

I shan't last for too long...and I wanted this being eternal! I don't want this intercourse having an end...I want this to be everlasting! But the amount of excitement, suppressed for so much time, hurts my flesh...and my body betrays me. The caress of that shirt's cheap fabric...that I feel like the most precious good in all the world...becomes a pungent need that can't be combated in anyway. I have been always one for the supreme control, my body never failed me when restraining myself...but now? My voice, in itself so dark, obscures...over clouds even more, until it becomes a sigh of animal lurking "Leroy! Take my sperm! And, with my sperm...take my Soul!"

+Gibbs+

A chuckle escapes my chest as Thomas collapses against me and I stroke along his back while nuzzling his neck "That was fast...I am glad I can still give you pleasure"  
He looks up at me with a sated smile before squeezing his internal muscles, causing pleasure to erupt up my spine.  
A whine escapes my chest as I can't thrust up and so...I grab his hips and move him up and down, forwards and backwards as I seek my own pleasure. He nods and moves with me, following the direction my hands move him until my back stiffens and I cry out as my orgasm washes over me...and my vision blacks out

+Kort+

I lean over him. He is still inside me...he is still bringing me the aftermath of our mutual delight. The last spasms are the best...I can perceive how he is already throbbing and how my muscles synchronously contract..and release, contract...and release. It brings me a sort of strange peace. We are soaked in love and sweat, we taste like the salty and bitter double beast that spasms in the lurk inside ourselves while exploring the boundaries of our mutual pain and pleasure. I kiss his mouth, that is slightly open, showing these impeccable teeth, so beautiful and so fearsome at the same time. "Do you want to sleep?" I softly ask, with my mouth over his.  
He nods, without any words.  
I get off him and lead him to the Bedroom. I help him to lie down in bed: first, I make him sit with his legs still hanging and then, I place delicately those strong pillars that have become static, like a statue.  
He is a half living statue: marble, stone, rock...a strong building that, even if crippled, crumbled...demolished...still stands by the inside. He is the powerful strength of an immortal...faith, heroism, loyalty, sincerity...he is...immaculate, cleanliness...Purity.  
I smile at him and remove his shirt and trousers before covering his legs with one of the blankets, after to have take off the slippers, but not the socks...I caress his thighs and gesture for him to retire, while I leave, so he can rest more quietly.  
He stops me "Remain...please?"

+Gibbs+

I look up into his jade eye and smile as I tug him down ontop of me "I want to sleep with you on me...as I can't sleep on you"  
He gives me a worried look but then nods as he joins me in bed.  
A smirk crosses my face as I playfully nip at his ear before tugging him, so he is laying across my chest and I nuzzle his neck...inhaling his spicy Scent "I know you feel guilty about the shooting, but it wasn't your fault and I don't blame you in anyway, shape or form" I tighten my arms around him as he goes to pull away and I let out a playful growl before nipping at his neck...marking his skin "Mine?"

+Kort+

I lean over his chest, offering my neck, my nape and turning around to give him my throat "Bite wherever you want...and leave me your indelible signal. I'm yours" These words escape from my lips almost unwillingly. My subconscious knows best...It betrays me and I offer the remains of my own self to him.  
He does as I was asking for, leaving me three marks, one for each period of my life: infancy, youth, mature age.  
I can't restrain myself and ask "Let me do the same with you...on you and in you...?"  
He nods and I proceed.  
His flesh tastes like the glory of an endless peace. I can't resist and I also bite his earlobe, tearing a delicious whine from deep inside his chest "This is for our old age" I state, attempting to have a look so innocent that he smirks and captures my own grimace with his lips. The night is falling all over us, we can listen to the last birds that are flying when coming back to their nests. And we have our own! We share this nest made with anguish, with despair, with a need for peace and a renewed hope...We share the last opportunity life (So generous this time!) wanted to give us...for once...showing us a hint of a smile.

(Morning)

+Gibbs+

A grunt escapes my chest and I yawn while lifting a hand to scratch at my neck before grunting again and opening my eyes...only to frown as I notice that somehow we have switched places, I am the one currently sprawled over Thomas's chest like a living blanket and I chuckle at the comparison before attempting to pull away.  
Kort growls and tightens his arms around me, pinning me in place while letting out a whine of distress.  
I roll my eyes and nuzzle his neck...licking at the three purple bite wounds, that signal he is mine!

+Kort+

I'm not sleeping at all...but better if he thinks I'm asleep. I am...like in a slumber, an awaken slumber, hidden behind my closed eye. I inhale his Scent, so sweet that it surely could compete and beat the essence of violets I used to like so much, mixed with the honey Mother used to anoint on those big pieces of bread, on Sundays.  
He is like a Sunday morning, one of these Sunday mornings that belong to the childhood. He is like a dawn when one realises one is becoming a bit of a poet...even if one knows that never shall be able to write a sole line. He is like the music I always wanted to play and never did...

+Gibbs+

After nibbling at the skin of his neck, making the marks larger...I pull back and glance down, smirking as I realise that I am hard and so is he. I growl and tug at my useless legs until I manage to position myself across his waist. A smile crosses my face as I end up straddling his body and I pant in delight and exhaustion "I...I did it!" I jump as hands grab my arms and tug me down for a kiss  
"I am proud of you!"  
I let out a playful growl as I push at his chest "Come on...let me play!"

+Kort+

He is a child! I love this! And his beautiful manhood is so erected...Now the ambiance is fulfilled by a musky odour that has replaced the sweetness I could perceive beforehand...Now the beast is lurking! Now, the inner animals that inhabit inside us shall fight for release. Wild, crude, raw..."What do you want to play?" I ask, smirking in a gesture that (I know) turns him on, because it brings back old memories of our first encounter.  
"I want you inside me...'Pirate' Thomas"  
"As you wish...'Commander' Leroy" I will keep playing the game, but I want it more softer than I used to do it before. I want to take him with my fingers first. I offer him my hand and he sucks liberally my thumb, my index, my middle finger, indicating me that he wants the three of them inside him...Even more audacious he captures also finger...I quickly take off the ring with the little skull I use to wear.  
"Put the ring on again, please?" he begs, so innocently as if he wouldn't have any idea of what is he asking for.  
"I don't want to harm you in anyway"  
He shakes his head "Don't worry...Put it on"  
I do as he is asking, carefully, I retire my fingers and go to search between his buttocks, helping him to spread his legs wider. I begin to penetrate him with my humid fingertips. One, two...three...He moans and his eyes, those divine eyes! Beseech for more.

+Gibbs+

I grunt as I feel him pushing in his finger and yelp in arousal as I feel the slight pain of his ring catching on my internal walls, my eyes slitting in warning as his hand stills "Don't you fucking dare!"  
He slowly swallows and nods before continuing with the fisting.  
My eyes flutter close as I feel his whole hand, ring in all, slipping inside my loose rear. I crack them open and smile as I grab his shoulders...using his body as leverage as I move my body on his hand, enjoying the sensations that run up my spine

+Kort+

This must be the first time I feel scared during a fisting session. I have killed men this way...I remember I've killed men this way...I don't want to harm him in anyway...but I look at his face and it is pure bliss! He is actually enjoying my fisting and God...or the devil...knows that I have been blessed, or doomed...with these enormous hands!  
My fingers have been used as lethal weapons, so many times! (Who could beat me when fighting barehanded?) And the fisting, the fisting was one of the mandatory tortures when receiving the training...But he seems to enjoy this immensely. I want to stop, but he doesn't allow me to stop! "Doesn't it hurt?" I ask, so gingerly, that the shyness of my voice sounds like alien  
"N-No...N-Not in anyway...I'm...enjoying ...I'm about to cum!"  
I then grab his prostate with my entire hand and massage it almost furiously from the inside. He has undone all the boundaries...I let my wild side out and it emerges with an animalistic cry, while I stroke myself at the same time I deliciously torture his main fortress of delight.

+Gibbs+

I whimper as I push at his shoulders, attempting to fuck myself onto his hand...only to still as I feel him grab my prostate and I come undone. I tip my head back and scream out my climax, coating his chest and chin...before collapsing on top of him, smirking at the startled grunt along with the feeling of wet heat splattering my backside

+Kort+

I hate to admit this, but...I enjoyed it! As much as he did! Yes, we are devious! We are diseased! But we are also like two poor miserable orphans, seeking for each other's warmth...I gently flip us over, kissing every inch of his skin...I never had pronounced the three forbidden words...never (And this was what Alfred attempted to say when dying,in that distant corner of Whitechapel!) "I love you"

+Gibbs+

I smirk as I gaze at him "I know..." with that I pull him closer for a deep kiss before tugging my legs open "Make love to me?" A warm smile crosses his face...and a returning one crosses mine as he lifts my rump and slides in. I groan in delight and arch my spine, wishing I could thrust back onto him. I jump as hands stroke along my chest and I gaze up at him before taking his face into my hands. A smirk crosses my lips and I rub noses with him (Just like I used to do with Shannon...and Brent) as I state "I want it rough...just like our first encounter, please Thomas? Give it to me and make me feel it!"

+Kort+

"As you wish" Another three words that I have barely used before. And it shall be as he wishes, as he craves for! Rough, crude, violent...Like a long symphony where the infamy of all that is despicable turns suddenly pure. "Take it, then!" I say, practically pouncing on him and thrusting with a violence that comes to be unusual even for one like me.  
His internal muscles have been loosened by my previous practice.  
I don't care if I have renounced to my previous orgasm for to be able to satisfy him. I have cut my orgasm in the middle, just in the middle of it, with an ability I've learned with the pain and the years. I can divide my orgasm, I am capable of to pour drop to drop, spurt to spurt...I can make it last for more than ten minutes. And so I'm doing, keeping my mind in place when cumming under diminishes my own pleasures, but increases his delight. He enjoys my penetration as nobody else had enjoyed it before.  
"Thomas! Thomas...drag me with you! Make me feel...as you feel..."  
I fix my unique, solitary eye with a terrible endeavour in his two blue miracles (My eye wants to turn on its orbit, the necessity of to let me go is irrepressible) and simply state, gathering the last threads of my own rationality "Just breathe"

+Gibbs+

A grunt escapes my chest as he hammers into me and I close my eyes as I take myself back to the time in the Basement...him taking me against the boat. I turn my head and bite his shoulder, tasting the copper of his blood and marveling at the way he whines and picks up the pace. My back arches in pleasure as I used for his, and I open my eyes before smiling and releasing his shoulder as I search for his mouth.  
His hips stutter as his orgasm suddenly (And by the startled grunt) surprisingly, overtakes him.  
A whine escapes my chest as my cock twitches in effort to climax and I go to take myself in hand...only for my wrists to be pinned above my head  
"Mine!"  
I nod and blink away the tears of desperation "Always"

+Kort+

I bend over without pulling out and, in a display of my so many times praised 'abilities', I reach for his cock, masturbating him furiously...I want to see him collapsing under my touch! I'm still cumming...it is the minute number six of my extended cum, I can control it...when I spot the first pearls of semen jumping out his cock, I let myself go.  
Completely.  
I know that I can cause fear when climaxing so...but not to him. I grunt, roar, scream...I am a cursed animal when letting myself go without any kind of restraint...Finally, I collapse all over his chest, soaked by cum and sweat and I can feel a thin trickle of blood escaping from the corner of my mouth...It's my elevated blood pressure that has exploded once more due the supreme effort. Now, I need to urinate...desperately, to make my pressure go low.  
He opens his eyes and says to me with a soft caress of his eyelashes on my cheek "Do it...don't worry"

+Gibbs+

I watch his face as he gently pulls out and cringe at the smell as he empties his bladder on me...promoting my own bladder to empty. I huff and glance down "We need a wash"  
He sighs, but snuggles against me in our soiled nest of sex and piss.  
I shake my head and nuzzle his neck "Only for you"

+Kort+

I should feel ashamed...but I don't. I slowly get up and go to the little Bathroom, searching for a basin and filling it with warm water. I also search for the little vial with essences: Jack seemed to know I love violets and lemongrass...I pour some drops in the water and search for the soap. A familiar smell of English cologne hurt my nose. I grab two soft towels (Jack is a very sage man...He must be the 'Sage and proud American' Uncle Trent was always talking about!) and head back to the Bedroom. I recognise Jethro's hand in the details of the decoration.  
I remember we have left clean, fresh sheets and some more new blankets in the commode's drawers...I help him to rise his body and I change the bed like it is done in the Hospitals...I have seen this too many times and I have performed this too many times, too...so I can say I'm an expert. Then, I proceed to put a big towel beneath his body and begin to wash him...softly very softly, washing myself at the same time. We are now clean, fresh and lying on immaculate sheets. I go to search for shorts and shirts...We have pyjamas in our bags, but they are untouched, since we had chosen to sleep nude the precedent night.  
"You are surprisingly skilled, Thomas" he says, with a coy smile.  
I give back the same smile (I think I'm becoming somewhat shy?) and reply "Let me go to the Kitchen...I shall make Breakfast...You must be hungry, as I am"

+Gibbs+

I frown as he goes to leave and I grab his arm "Don't leave...or at least pass me my chair?" I give him a nervous smile "I don't want to be left here on my own and useless"  
He shakes his head and kisses me "You are not useless" with that he tugs on a pair of boxers before getting me dressed in a pair of his.  
A soft smile crosses my face at the sweet gesture and I allow him to lift me into my chair before I suddenly wheel myself away while shouting over my shoulder "See you in the Kitchen!"

+Kort+

I find him in the Kitchen and smile.  
He hasn't pronounced a word, but his eyes speak with the accent that comes directly from his heart...and how!  
"Now you can help me when preparing Breakfast..." I begin to dispose the admixtures for to make our early luncheon: bacon, eggs, butter and the bread I shall toast in the manual toaster. The oven works with wood and coal, like in my old house...Everything is so simple, so charmingly modest, that I feel a strange sweetness, the same sweetness I felt when I was with my Grandparents, watching how Nanny was baking the cakes she used to sell in the streets and listening to my GrandDad's fables...He hands me the forks and knives.  
Suddenly, he asks me "Where did you learn how to cook so finely?"  
After the long pause where I placed all my souvenirs, I reply "Watching my GrandMother...and I worked as a cook, too...more than once, like Undercover I-" I stop. I don't want to remember the Past, when I abandoned my GrandParents' house and began again when I found...this. Between then and now...I was dead.

+Gibbs+

I watch as a soft smile crosses his face and I wheel myself closer and gently tug him into my lap while nuzzling his neck "I do love you"  
He lets out a soft chuckle and turns his head for a kiss before gently pushing me away "Let me finish, please"  
I huff and allow him the move...but smirk as I playfully slap his rear and quickly wheel myself out of the way before entering the Livingroom. I sigh in boredom as I wheel myself around the room...only to yelp in shock as a pebble is thrown in through the window and gets caught in my wheel. The blasted chair tips over and I end up sprawled on the ground

+Kort+

I have heard the noise and his strangled gasp. I leave what I am doing at the moment and run beside him.  
He is lying on the floor, on his stomach and his face rises when I approach and he makes a gesture of silence. He begins to communicate with sign language -Someone is around...The pebble was thrown through the glass window-  
I do what I have taught to do in these occasions...I grab my gun. -Hold on- I say and help him sit up, placing his back against the chair and wheeling it to the opposite corner of the room.  
He looks at my hand and notices the gun -Hand me mine-

+Gibbs+

He gives me a nervous look before nodding and passing me my Sig.  
I check the magazine and smirk as I gesture for him to cover the entrance while I wheel myself to check the window, narrowing my eyes as I spot about eight men in Black-Op gear surround the Cabin. I hold up to sets of four fingers and gesture that they have split up.  
He nods and heads out the back in order to silently take out the intruders.  
A smile crosses my face as I spot him hiding in the shadows and I turn to aim my gun at the first man...shooting him dead and causing a distraction as my Lover silently takes them out one by one

+Kort+

It was pretty easy...too easy, maybe. They might have been beginners. This one, for instance. He can't be more than twenty five or twenty six...His dead features remind me of myself at that age. Only that I was more faster...or perhaps more luckier...Now I'm unsure if I was more luckier, or if this poor young pawn of the system is much more lucky than I could have ever been? Since he abandoned this place of pain, sorrow and violence that we usually call 'life'. It's strange...I must be getting old...or really the fact that I have fallen in love for the second time in all my life (And for the first time in more than thirty years!) It's weird, but I can't stop thinking of this young lad! I can't stop thinking about his Family...about who he was? Where he is from? Perchance, did he have a fiancé Male? Female? Did he have Parents, Siblings? I look at his dead face and I regret the fact I don't know how to Pray.  
Coming back to the front window, I leave my gun on the table, retrieving also Jethro's Sig and place it beside my old beloved Luger 45. "CIA" I state, looking firmly into Jethro's eyes "But they were only greenhorns, freshmen"  
"Rookies" he adds.  
I sigh and I remember something he said to me once, years ago, when I went alone to chase that man...that fat man...what was his name? Ah, Perry, yes!  
"Nobody else shall die today" He answers "Chuck must have given them the location of this Cabin"  
"Did he know this place before?"  
He nods  
"Then, we should go! They shall see that their poor pawns don't return, they will surely send back reinforcements, we know how this works..."

+Gibbs+

I am thankful he didn't ask more about Chuck and this Cabin...just like he didn't press me into revealing all of what really happened years ago, when I was jumped by the Bastard and his posse. I quickly wheel myself into the Kitchen, emptying the drawers and reaching up for the cubboards while he clears out the Bedroom and Bathroom.

Once everything is packed, I tug on a shirt and drag myself out of my chair and onto the small sofa, before tugging on a pair of slacks onto my useless legs. I pant in exhaustion and drag myself back into my wheelchair, just as Thomas appears  
"Are you ready, Jethro?"  
I nod and wheel myself up to the door before pausing and watching him load the truck. A sigh escapes my chest as I am unable to help...thanks to the stupid steps. I look up as he approaches and wrap my arms around his neck as he picks me up bridal style.  
He grunts at the effort but doesn't drop me as he carries me to the passenger side of the truck.  
I make myself comfortable as he heads back to grab my wheelchair before joining me. I gaze at him and bite my bottom lip "Thomas? Why is the CIA after you...and why were they going to kill me?"

+Kort+

(Should I be sincere with him? Even risking everything we have? Awakening his feelings of mistrust? Shall those cursed, bloody letters, CIA, pursue me...us, until the grave? And even beyond?) I, for once, decide to tell the complete, nude truth (Of course, Kort's style, that means the part of the truth that shan't affect me...us, in this case...or our relationship, as it is the most precious treasure for me! I never had this! Never before! And I can't lose it!)  
"Operation Frankenstein" I begin, when driving at a tranquil rhythm, thus a frantic speed could become suspicious to someone, "I was after the files, to destroy them. I kept the money, Jethro: more than three hundred million pounds in diamonds. I was about to retire and to spend the rest of my life hidden somewhere, under any other name...but I also wanted to payback a debt"  
"Debt?"  
I sigh "Many years ago, during a Black-Operation, I got severely injured...five bullets you could trace in my chest are from that Operation that took place in Namibia, Africa. A Priest from a mission situated near the place where they had thrown my body waiting for the scavengers to finish their task, named Father Francis, saved me. He carried me to the Hospital and took care of me with the five Friars that were with him. I promised to myself to help one day...they need food, clothes, medicines! Do you have any idea of how much of that one could buy with three hundred million pounds sterling in diamonds?"  
He whistles "Fuck!"  
"Yes, Jethro. I want to be useful for a change...I shall be able to say that a debt contracted by Trent Kort was paid amply"  
He looks at me, not directly, but by the little mirror "And?"  
"And they know this...they want the diamonds for themselves! Everything is a matter of money...and those cursed files!"  
He thinks for an instant and he asks, very softly (But I still recognise the slightly devious tone employed in his interrogatories!) "That's it?"  
I nod "That's it...Money"  
"Dirty money, I see" He is always so inflexible!  
"Even dirt can be useful...look at me"

+Gibbs+

I roll my eyes and huff "You aren't dirt, Thomas" with that I reach out and stroke his leg "No...you are the man I love"  
He gives me a wary glance before he continues watching the road for danger.  
I glance out of my own window and bite my bottom lip as I think over what I have been told...only to frown "Thomas...why are the CIA after me also? You stated that I was in danger and so we ran...but I am in no way connected to the diamonds and money! Unless...unless there is another thing that you are hiding from me?"

+Kort+

How could I say that I as the one chosen by them to go after him? To literally KILL him? And that I refused? Shall he believe me? He is in his perfectly right to disbelieve me. I'm a professional liar, a skill I mastered in deceit just before his eyes, more than once. "That's all" I state, attempting to don't betray myself with the constant shiver of my hands.  
A skidding noise warns me that I should pay more attention to the road...

+Gibbs+

I yelp in shock and grab my seatbelt as Thomas spins the truck...causing us to end up in a ditch, and against a tree. I shake my head and slowly blink before turning to my Lover and shaking his shoulder "Thomas...?"  
He slowly rolls his head and blinks at me with an unfocused jade eye "Le...roy?"  
I smile at him and attempt to help him, only to turn in shock as my door is flung open and I slit my eyes in anger "What the fuck, Chuck!?"  
The man smiles at me and licks his lips "It's you Leroy...I want a repeat of what happened all those years ago" with that he drags me out of the seat.  
I growl and slap him away...but he grabs me by useless leg "Let me go!" I turn to see if Thomas can help...but I find that he is barely conscious  
"Either you stop fighting...or I shall let Rodney kill him"  
Tears blur my vision as I watch the Bastard holding a knife against my Lovers throat and I nod "Yes! I-I'll go...but please, let someone know he is here!"  
Chuck slits his eyes and then nods "Fine!" with that he roughly tugs me up and drags me into his truck, before allowing me to leave a message for my Dad to come and pick up Trent.  
I watch as I am taken away and I let the tears fall down my cheeks (I am Sorry Thomas...I couldn't let them kill you). I recoil away from Rodneys touch as he roughly pets my face  
"This time, you won't have a Bitch to spoil our fun"  
I shiver at the unpleasant memories of the three days of sexual torture I recieved...

+Kort+

I slowly awake...I must have had a concussion...It hurts...But...where is Leroy? How could he go away by himself!? Terror confuses my mind, my Soul, my entire being when I deduce that he must have been kidnapped (Think! Trent! Think! You were caught off guard, you, stupid old wanker! You, good for nothing...you! YOU ALLOWED WHOEVER IT IS TO ABDUCT HIM!) No...I don't gain anything with the self deprecating thoughts, I must act and quickly! As I always have done.  
They took my gun! Those bastards took my gun! (When it was that the lack of a gun stopped you, Trent? Don't you know how to strangle! What more do you need!?) I sense this time it wasn't the CIA...it's impossible that they could have recovered the ones they sent earlier so rapidly! They shall go after us, undoubtedly, when those poor pawns shan't return to the base...but it shall be later! I must find Leroy and reach Siravo's place...the Ranch...before they could find out what happened! But, if not them...then...who? Who kidnapped Leroy Jethro Gibbs? I attempt to breathe, since my head aches like hell. I must have some broken ribs, too. I know the pain very well, of course, I've been taught how to endure it very well, too.  
Like sudden flash,a car, an old Ford Caravan (A very old model, for sure) stops beside me. "Trent!" I recognise instantaneously...Jack's voice! "Sergeant Gibbs?! Jackson?!"  
"Leroy sent me a message! He explained you had a car accident...and he might go with...someone...because-" He remains silent,as if he had said too much.  
"Because? Jack, please! Because...?"  
He sighs "Come here, please, get in my caravan...Let's go back to town! I shall explain you once I have examined better your wounds..."

+Gibbs+

I blink away the tears and growl as Chuck attempts to drag me out of the car. I draw my fist back and deck him across the face, causing him to fall back "My fucking legs DON'T work! So stop pulling at me!"  
Rodney chuckles and wraps his arms around my waist, tugging me out of the car "Glad to see that you are still a fighter, Leroy!"  
A growl escapes my chest as I am half carried/dragged into an abandoned Cabin before being dumped onto a cot. I glare at my kidnappers and slit my eyes as one walks in with a rope  
"There's no need to tie him up, Greg! He can't walk!"  
Greg frowns at me and huffs "I was looking forward to tying him up like old times! Please Symon...Chuck, Rodney? Please?"  
I slit my eyes as the four men glance at one another  
Chuck shrugs "Tie his hands to the bed...we'll eat before we have fun!"  
My heartrate spikes in fear, however I refuse to show it as I glare at each men in turn...but I know I have no chance at escape

+Kort+

I don't want to back to town "Jack...there is no need to carry me back to the village! Please, let's go after those people...I think I know who has kidnapped Leroy!"  
He looks at me, from the wheel, via the mirror "You explained that there have been eight armed men and that you and Leroy have taken them out almost immediately...Can they have been followed by more people? Like a reinforcement, a back-up?"  
"No, that would take some time for them to realise what happened...But I know! And you also know! Who could have given that Cabin's location to the CIA men..."  
"Chuck?"  
"Indeed!"  
The old man stops his caravan and grabs something from behind his chair "Take my old Remington"  
I am even more sensitive than Jethro when it comes to guns...he realised that I have been despoiled of my weapon!  
"Take it, take the caravan...and leave me here! I know someone who could come and pick me up...I am too old to go with you, if you are Trent Fisher's Nephew...I know you never shall relinquish!"  
I look at him with all the fierce glare of my unique eye "Never! You can be sure!"  
The old man gets out the car, with secure step and dials a number in his mobile. He advises me "We can't call the police, because of a very simple reason: one of the men who have Leroy IS actually the police!"  
I remember the eyes in that strange Constable's face when he spotted Jethro back in town with me...Jack seems to have realised everything of everything. A very clever man, exactly as Uncle Trent depicted him. And now I can understand why Leroy Jethro Gibbs is who he is. There is something in his blood.  
Yes, it is his blood...

+Gibbs+

I tug at the rope binding my wrists to the bed and huff as I can't get the leverage needed to break free (Fuck!). My head snaps up as the sound of  
chuckles and I swallow away the fear as the four men surround me. I let out an embarrassing squeak as my shirt is ripped off and I growl as four sets  
of hands pet and paw at my smirks and takes the knife from Rodney.  
He glances at the other men and chuckles as he cuts away the slacks, to reveal the prize.  
I jump at the sound and I glance over my shoulder to spot them removing what is left of my trousers and Thomas's boxers. Tears prick at my eyes and I try to pull away...but my legs refuse to move. A yelp escapes my chest as fingers prod and poke at my entrance before I am suddenly lifted and something hard and uncomfortable is placed under my hips...raising my rear for my tormentors pleasure. I watch them spread my useless legs and cry out in shock, and pain, as something is jabbed into me...causing pain to erupt up my spine as the thing suddenly pulse against my prostate and I glare at the four men...my face flaring crimson in shame as they each take themselves in hand while watching me.  
Greg smirks and takes the remote from Rodney "Lets see him on the highest setting!"  
I scream out in pain as electricity shoots up my spine (Thomas? Thomas please! Please save me!). I jerk in shock as four splashes of wet heat splatter over my back...signalling that they each have climaxed

+Kort+

This desperate race seems to don't have an left me the map and I spot the little mark that signals the location of the Cabin, where (Accordingly to Jack's supposition) they must have carried Jethro. It is a place where they used to meet to go hunting. If I am not wrong, I'm passing by the wood just now.  
This old vehicle must have a modified engine: Jack surely did something to it...because I can't believe the speed I have reached. My head aches and I feel a strong sensation of nausea...It.s the concussion. I shall put there an icepack later...just behind my ear. Also, my ribs burn, in a way that reminds me of that son of a bitch (Cobbs, if you only had finished me! Maybe Gibbs wouldn't be in this predicament...Maybe it would have been someone else? The man in charge of...NO! I can't afford to think about it just now!) I know that I shall never abandon him. A sight becomes clear when the dim light of the late afternoon detaches it...The Cabin! I stop the engine,leaving the caravan beside the shrubbery and I finally get out.

+Gibbs+

I sniffle and growl as they attempt to force open my mouth  
"Come on Leroy! Let us have some fun!"  
I bare my teeth and bite Chucks hand, smirking at the scream of pain along with the coppery taste of his blood.  
Chuck yelps and cradles his hand against his chest "You Bastard!" with that he backhands me.  
My head snaps back and my vision blurs at the pain...and I groan as the 'thing' is removed from my rear  
"If we can't use your mouth...we can use your arse instead!"

+Kort+

I creep stealthily (After all, I am the 'Cobra'). It has been a long time, however, since I used a rifle. It's unimportant. It's just a matter of shooting at moving targets. And in this...I know I have been and I am still the best. There is only one who could beat me in this specialty and this 'one' is now unconsciously waiting for me to come to his rescue. This would have been very different if he hadn't been immobilized. I only hope I am not too late...As the ribs are evidently damaged, the hard, rocky ground hurts even more.

+Gibbs+

I grunt as Chuck breaches me and I cry out in pain as my abused rear screams in agony. I blink away the tears and snarl as Greg goes to stroke my face "Fuck Off!"  
Greg draws back in fear and shrugs "Don't see why I can't touch!"  
Symon holds up a hand at the sound of a twig breaking and they all quickly run out of the room...leaving me tied up on the bed

+Kort+

That twig...well, maybe it can be useful. So...there are four men? I have put down ten myself (But this was in the past, you, stupid jerker, you are getting old!) At any rate, the 'Cobra' shan't fall without a fight! He must know that I came for him, or, maybe it shall be better if he doesn't take notice?Because...how could the noble, honourable Leroy Jethro Gibbs feel when he shall realise that he has been rescued by this rotten piece of crap? I can't indulge myself in more thoughts...They are coming out of the house!  
The first one is a red haired, tall, somewhat beefy...I feel nausea! It makes me sick just thinking he could have touched 'my' Jethro intimately! He must smell like sewage...even worse that the trench that ran beside the street where I was born! I don't wait for more. I fire! Only one shot between his eyes...faded out, dead, cold...gone.  
I can hear the screams and I know they are now having a riot and grabbing their guns and coming. Moving targets behave usually so. A second and a third one run out, they of course have spotted me, a shot passes beside my head (Only half an inch more and you would be a dead man, Trent Kort!). I sneak through the neglected boxwood hedge that surrounds the entrance. Another shot doesn't surprise me, but it slightly rubs my shoulder (More pain, Trent Kort?). I call my inner assassin, that cold creature I have relinquished in the most hidden corner of my despicable Soul since the day I realised I was in love with Leroy Jethro Gibbs...nothing less...nothing more. And the hideous slayer responds to my desperate call...and comes out...three more shots, only three more shots...And they are out.

+Gibbs+

My head snaps up as I hear a gunshot, followed quickly by the sound of a body hitting the ground (Please God! Please say that Thomas has come!). I tug harder at the rope and even start to gnaw at it...trying not to heave at the taste if my kidnappers semen that covers the bindings. I look up at the sound of two gunshots and listen out for the sound of bodies hitting the ground...only to panic at the silence. I quickly return to my chewing and tugging. A cry of relief escapes my throat as I manage to free my left wrist and I quickly release my right one...only to pause at the sound of three more gunshots that is followed by a deathly silence. At the sound of footsteps, of someone walking into the Cabin, I reach out and grab Thomas's beloved Luger before pointing it to the doorway as I await to see who is the last person alive is! Just as someone walks in, I shout "HALT!"


End file.
